When I Write A Poem About Love
The truth is…
When I asked you for a Chai latte, what I meant to say was: “I was walking past. I saw you in the window. I only came in here because I had to know what your voice sounded like.”
But instead of saying that, I got really nervous and just ordered the first thing on the menu. I don’t even know what the hoot ‘Chai’ is…or a latte, for that matter.
When God made you, He cussed for the first time. He turned to an angel, gave him a high five and said: “Goddamn, I’m good!”
You are that good looking.
I spent the last five days trying to figure out how I will introduce myself to you properly, and I think I’ve finally figured it out. It’s going to be something like… “Hi.” That’s all I’ve got so far, but I think it’s a good start.
You see, I like that my friends think I’m in love, the crazy kind of love, that reckless kind of love.
That wake-up-early, make-you-breakfast kind of love…
That ‘crack open my life and say look, you gotta see this’ kind of love…
That ‘forget the shallow stuff, I want it deep’ kind of love…
That ‘I want to stay up and tell you all my secrets’ kind of love…
That ‘every time I see you, I fall to pieces’ kind of love…
That ‘you are my destiny’ kind of love…
That ‘no matter what happens, you always get the best of me’ kind of love…
That ‘you get my heart and my mind, this world gets the rest of me’ kind of love…
That ‘invest in me, because you already know that I’m invested in you’ kind of love…
That ‘you come home upset, you don’t have to say nothing, I already know what to do’ kind of love…
I want that love. I want your love.
I want you to bite my lip until I can no longer speak. And then suck my ex-boyfriend’s name out of my mouth just to make sure he never comes up in our conversations.
I want you to come to me like an afternoon, come to me slowly as if you were a broken sunset with a lazy sky on your shoulders. If you let me be your sunlight, I promise that I will penetrate your darkness until you speak in angel wings.
Pull me close to you, tell me that you love me, and then scratch your future into my back so I can be everything that you live for.
I promise that I will die for you daily and then resurrect in your screams. I promise that I will love you.
I promise that I will love you as if it’s the only thing that I’ve ever done correctly. I’ll be honest, I’m usually not even a love poet. In fact, every time I try to write about love, my hands cramp. Just so you know how painful love can be. And sometimes my pencils break just to prove to me that, every now and then, love takes a little more work than planned.
See, I heard that love is blind, so I write all my poems in Braille. And my poems, I never actually finish, because true love is endless.
You see, I’ve always believed that real love is kinda like a supermodel before she’s airbrushed. It’s pure and imperfect, just the way that God intended.
I said before that I’m not much of a love poet. But if I was to wake up tomorrow morning and decide that I really wanted to write about love, my first poem… It would be about you.
About how I loved you the same way that I learned how to ride a bike. Scared, but reckless. With no training wheels or elbow pads, so my scars can tell the story of how I fell for you.
I’m not much of a love poet. But if I was, I’d write about how I see your face in every cloudy reflection in every window.
I’ve written a million poems, hoping that somehow, maybe some way, you’ll jump out of the page and be closer to me. Because if you were here right now, I would massage your back until your skin sings songs that your lips don’t even know the words to. Until your heartbeat sounds like my last name. And you smile like the Pacific Ocean.
If I was a love poet, I’d write about how you have the audacity to be beautiful even on days when everything around you is ugly. I’d write about your eyelashes, and how they are like violin strings that play symphonies every time you blink. If I was a love poet, I’d write about how I melt in front of you like an ice sculpture every time I hear the vibration in your voice. Or whenever I see your name on the caller ID, my heart… It plays hopscotch inside of my chest. It climbs onto my ribs like monkey bars, and I feel like a child all over again.
I swear, I’m usually not a love poet, but if I was to wake up tomorrow morning and decide that I really wanted to write about love, my first poem… I swear that it would be about… It would be about you.
Written by Vhar
About author
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46 Comments
Deola
November 25, 05:42‘ If you let me be your sunlight, I promise that I will penetrate your darkness until you speak in angel wings’.
Does this part sound dirty or is my naughty mind imagining things…
pinkpanthertb
November 25, 05:44Great. Now I’m thinking dirty things. Thanks for dragging me into the gutter with you Deola
Deola
November 25, 05:45Hehe…that’s what i do! *Pops collar*
Samaurai
November 25, 07:11Lol.
You’re naughty all by yourself, Deola
Deola
November 25, 05:44‘About how I loved you the same way that I learned how to ride a bike. Scared, but reckless. With no training wheels or elbow pads, so my scars can tell the story of how I fell for you’.
This part slayed me…nicely written Vhar.
chestnut
November 25, 05:52Wow…just, WOW! In some people’s hands, pens turn into magic wands, words turn in MAGIC…just,WOW!
pinkpanthertb
November 25, 05:54Is your mouth hanging open right now Chestie? 🙂
chestnut
November 25, 06:21Oh yes! I’m in awe!
Masked Man
November 25, 05:53Dear Lawd!
The imagery is so powerful that I was beginning to wish this was actually written to me.
This person sabi love sha.
*morning coffee abeg*
#TeamKizito
November 25, 05:56Smiling.
Oh, Vhar..
simba
November 25, 06:03U are good, really good..it flowed like a quiet river.. once again thanks for blessing us with ur poem
Mr Bassey
November 25, 06:07For someone who could’not care less about poetry, I actually started and finished this one and it was good.
chestnut
November 25, 06:23I know right! I’ve never been a big fan of poetry(I hardly understand it), but this…this is not ‘poetry’;this is MAGIC.
Paul
November 25, 06:13den some1 would hv ds perfct luv for one who doesn’t even like him in return and u’d tell me this world would end well?
Ds ship of luv shuld sail bcos some of us r waiting to paddle our canoes of an ordinary life.
#greatjob vhar
pinkpanthertb
November 25, 06:19Paddle canoes of ordinary life. Hahahahahahaa. That line killed me. Paul, why so cynical?
Lothario
November 27, 15:35Oh! After a few thumps on your heart…..positivity is a bit far off
Micky
November 25, 07:10Wow!!! Vhar just Wow!!! That 2nd to the last paragraph is everything..
Dimkpa
November 25, 07:31This is a beautiful work of art. Really fascinating imagery. Well done and thanks.
xpressivejboy
November 25, 07:33Wow! WoW!! WOW!!!
*faints*
*rises*
Vhar, your pen will never cease flowing…Love will continually treat you and yours well; such imagery, so much intense, you left my mouth hanging all through, lucky ‘he’ that’s got you…Bravo Bro…would love to read more from your ocean of creativity…Omo See The Flow, Shaa!
*faints again*
Blaq Jaqs
November 25, 07:48This kind of love though, deep and powerful and seemingly pure yet delicately pushing towards darker. I feel like not everyone is fortunate enough to experience it, and if u do, it can only be once…
In other news… some of u na sabi write for Africa!! see killer lyrics. If any man tell me dis one eh, na to carry am go meet my mama! well done Vhar! Beautiful stuff!!
enigmous
November 25, 12:16Oh Blaq Jaqs…Things love/sweet words can do to you, “carry am go meet my mama”?
shuga chocolata
November 25, 07:48I want you to bite my lip until I can no longer speak. And then
suck my ex-boyfriend’s name out of my mouth just to make sure
he never comes up in our conversations.
This part really got me because I mix all my exes names way too much and they are all igbos.
Max
November 25, 08:06Nicely done…
Andrevn
November 25, 08:59VHAR!!!
Reserving my comments!
Andrevn
November 25, 09:07Dude!!!
To imagine that you are not a love poet beats me!
Kryss S
November 25, 10:09“I want you to come to me like an afternoon, come to me slowly as if you were a broken sunset with a lazy sky on your shoulders. If you let me be your sunlight, I promise that I will penetrate your darkness until you speak in angel wings.”
*Speaking in various tongues* Shabaraba shabaraba! Oroboscatter! I like! I like! I Like!
Vhar just slayed me with his words!
Sucking nd biting my exes name off my mouth won’t b a bad thing oh! Choi!!
Khaleesi
November 25, 11:34Sweet poignant piece. .. you’re truly gifted Vhar ….
Peak
November 25, 11:59Here is the thing Vhar
I’m one of those ppl who get uncomfortable when the word love comes up in a conversation, not cos I don’t believe in it, but because it scares the daylight out of me. But at some point whle reading this piece, I felt this. Poem was 4 me! I found myself wishing for this crazy-wild-intense-unrestrained kind of love.
Great Stuff bro! I ve never really cared for poems but I read this form A-Z and just copied and saved it for one of them cloudy days.
Great! Great!! Great stuff.
Bless you Boy!
Andrevn
November 25, 12:05Tigress!!
Pls i need the psychiatrists’ contact
BTW: do reply my emails ehn Omalicha..
enigmous
November 25, 12:24If am to express how I feel about this poem, I will describe the feeling in one word: AWESOME.
Vhar, thanks for permitting me to see love from your perspective. It is a very colourful, very beautiful and very enviable perspective.
Ife di mma rukwa mu aka, Love oooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Ace
November 25, 12:28I hardly read the poems on this blog but after going through the comments, i had to make n exception and i am glad as hell i did. Too much love dropped on paper.
pinkpanthertb
November 25, 12:33Wait o, you hopped into the comments section before you read what the comments were about? Lol. All these Kitodiariesians sef
Paul
November 25, 12:51Still in d spirit of poems,I actualy await d day Mrs M or DM wuld drop a poem.
Dat day all d pple on d long queue may either jst turn back and head home (to their aboniki or wateva works it 4 dem )empty handed or d queue go increase.
FKA Chizzie
November 25, 13:46wow…this is so nice. bravo! 🙂
gad
November 25, 14:15Wishes and dreams.nice poem
s_sensei
November 25, 14:50Just brilliant!
enKayced
November 25, 17:26See I heard that love is blind, so I write all my poems in Braille!
Vhar, O Vhar!!!
Now my love is looking rickety and rusty compared to what I just read.
*faints into the arms of Chestnut, Mr Bassey and King*
Brian Collins
November 25, 20:40Are you ‘gbogbo biggs girls’ dat you have to faint into the arms of three grown men? What are we going to call this kind of slutiness?
pinkpanthertb
November 25, 23:51Heheheee I tire o
Mr Kassy
November 25, 17:32I always fantasise about this kind of love.God please make it a reality for me*kneels down to pray*vhar u are awesome,keep it up!
Blue
November 25, 20:14I heard that love is blind, so I write all my poems in Braille. And my poems, I never actually finish, because true love is endless.
I died a little inside after that line
Brian Collins
November 25, 20:35The ‘incredibility’ of this poem marvels me. It was beautiful to read. I really hope that this was not just about writing a beautiful poem and that Vhar felt like this about someone at some time. If that is the case, who ever Vhar falls in love with is in for a wonderful relationship, well…. especially if the person feels the same way.
Mr Kassy
November 25, 23:28You can say that again dear*wandering who vhar is sef*
Kachi
November 25, 23:13Speechless.
This is a Masterpiece! Beautiful !!
victor
November 27, 07:34Sorry I’m late but I just gotta comment,this is the best love poem I’ve read in a very long time,how come I have never seen vhars coments bfor or is he indian?
pinkpanthertb
November 27, 08:10Lol. Not all the writers are commenters. 🙂