Untitled Poem (Eight Griefs)

This is a poem I wrote after I broke up with my boyfriend of three years. It was a hard time - it still is. There's no proper scheme here, but when you begin to read its rhythm becomes apparent. And read it the way you're supposed to read Shakespear - all together, heedless of line-breaks.

Right now I'm shopping this around to publishers. Tell me what you think.

***

1
He built a house to keep me in,
patience fair in arms enfolden
ever just the tapped beholden
never yet a smile cracked
and not again; the tragedy lacked
a second act; we wait in wings to never
fly, to hold apart and hurt deny.
Love not left in hate but haste;
love left with lips too raw to taste, hands
just hands, bare and chaste.

Love me not tomorrow, no
love me ever, sorrow, woe
I throw the lowest I have thrown
I changed the past, its seed unsown
as if it never was.

2
I remember that November and the
following December as my heart
remained as tender as the day it left.
The heart of me -
but all the rest
of my doubted faculties attest
I yet live.

3
And he does too.
I only wished he wished to do.

4
Where will I go now
who will I see
how will I be able to breathe without
gasping, grasping
lasting though of you deprived
lasting love of you denied.
Here in pain my thoughts reside
and bide their time.
It's always dark inside the eye.

5
Never will he know how much
he helped me grow - his gentle touch
and belly laugh
the belly round
and in it a new comfort found.

6
The air was blue and we breathed fire:
watched our wits with grins expire -
cheshire thoughts of hungry ghosts
to which we were unwitting hosts
(our former selves)
the learning curved
around our necks and decked across our ears
absurd
the only word
that wouldn't make us laugh.

7
Now I see Plutonian shores
and the bones of lost Lenores
no ravens here, no nevermores.

8
He built a house to keep me in
but couldn't leave himself.

Bravo! BRAVO! That was awesome, I give you 11/10

Marvelous. What else can I say?....

Thanks guys. I definitely think it's one of my better poems. Poe is one of my favourite poets, hence the nod to 'The Raven.'

If only I could write poems with such beauty and tenderness.

I love poe too, have you read "A dream within a dream"?

Wonderful poem!!! You have real talent! Good luck trying to get your poem published. Great job.

Deky Boy - I have, and it's great.

southern bell - thank you very much.

Hmm. Maybe I should post another poem.

***

I use it as I need it;
this fund of love I own
stored safely in my basement floor
in a space with room for more
behind chest and key and lock and door
so I will never play the whore
and be sharp of wit against the war
that wages in my bone.

He knows not of the breathless sigh
of hands across his back.
I see his face in my mind’s eye
and wonder if he thinks of I
or if we’ll ever chance to lie
in bed a mask of sheet and thigh;
I leave these musings and I die
of needing what I lack.

I keep it in my basement;
perhaps it waits there still
for me to come and let it out
with banging arms and lungs of shout
or with a lip all plump with pout
but I know what its all about
a little death of fear and doubt.

So I leave it
and I believe it
can only hurt what it can’t kill.

It's lovely pip. It's so very very hard to express yourself in poetry. Maddening even. It came out great.

Oh and, enfolden is a word? That's one of the things I love about poetry, if something isn't a word, just make it one. Or change it to make it fit. (Assuming that it isn't a word. Of course, I could be wrong and then I'd look like quite a jackass.)

But, seriously, it was great.

AWESOME! Very deep, very meaningful! 10/10

I love how descriptive you were in the first grief.

That's got to be one of the best poems I've ever read that isn't published. I'll never be able to write poetry... I don't get how people can be that... deep. Sheesh. That's good.