Love Stinks

A Poem by redzone

...LOVE....Love....love

LOVE STINKS

　

"Love doesn’t solve anything. Love creates problems;

it makes you crazy; it makes you love the wrong

person. Love isn’t special, it just is! And the best you

can say is that it might give you a moments pleasure

or days of pain. Come, take my hand, come into my bed."

~~~Nicolas Cage to Cher in a scene from "Moonstruck"

　

"Aww ma, I love him awful."

~~~ Cher in "Moonstruck"

---

When will you finally admit

love is a phony,

insecure and

hypocritical state of mind

that at best, eats away at

once human hearts

turning them into burning,

lurking, desperate stupidity!

No matter how many

written platitudes of zany

hopes, or fashionable desires,

one truth stands out starkly-

LOVE STINKS.

Stinks the way

oceans of waves

turn shore line rocks smooth

then casually crushes them

into tiny grains of sand;

leaving the best of intentions

as mere knarled,

salt water soaked

driftwood

cast up on once passionate,

landscaped dream shores.

~~~

Yes, admit it

love is a ruinous thing.

It slaps you in the face

and openly lies about

the moon’s nature,

its evolutionary path,

its effects on emotion,

and the influence of tides.

Love should be banned!

It should be stomped on,

beaten,

punched, kicked

smashed and

banished

until it is unrecognizable

in any form.

FOREVER.

Replaced perhaps

With such things as:

"My fingers can’t stop

discovering your lightness of being";

"Your breath plays symphonies

that tickle my ears";

"I want to taste you

as you bathe in

and laugh at

the absurdities of life,

savoring the spices it leaves

in your valleys

and tangled folds";

"Your lips caress

like sweet morning air and

I want to linger there

until the end of tomorrow".

~~~

Fuk LOVE.

Come, be with me.

Let’s create in our arms

the music of humanity

heard floating on ocean breezes;

carried by hawks

lazing on mountain air,

and wolves singing glories

to the phases of the moon.

Come, be with me.

Color me with your tongue

in reds,

greens,

apricot,

yellow and blues.

Come, taste my warmth,

surround your fingers

with the touch of my face.

Come baby,

be with me,

lay in my bed

and I will paint you smoothly

with Neruda’s pen

and Shange’s creamy,

liquid thighs

calling out a whispered sigh.

Come…

~~~redzone

© 2014 redzone

Author's Note

I have no clue what love is... but I do know it makes you feel wonderfully crazy...

captcha: slobbers.. now thats as good a definition as any..

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Reviews

Jack...

Love stinks...yeah, yeah.

Sounds like a poem written by someone in lov...no wait, I better not say it, oh what the hell...lov...nope, can't do it... it is banned around these parts.

Mr. Redzone...you provide us with a very nice play by play of what the L word feels like and why we should not heed its temptations. My friend, this poem is sky high cool, so well written, presented and built around one idea, but I am sorry...I can't not give in to the temptations...especially when you call me flutter. :)

This is very good and I am happy as hell I stopped by here today.