poemranker ::This one the love by thepinkbunnyofdoom

DetailsThe poem, its numbers, and the conversation.

Free verse № 123984

This one the love

Member since 2003 · Posted 23 Apr 2005 · Edited 23 Apr 2005 · 14 comments

Underneath the streetlights I sang songs of sorrow Telling of tomorrows that never came and autumn nights I was prepared for a battle of rusty switchblade symphonies Should have known, you’d run from this silent war Always a step ahead, always two steps behind One day I will corner you, and it’ll be an epic The likes of which none shall ever know Love, what have you done? Retreat equals defeat, so stand tall Raise your banner, because here I come This will kill one of us, but I’m already dying Answer my questions, or face the executioner Axe in hand, this will end The element of surprise was always your grace You kept none of my secrets as such But all was forgiven in the majesty of your touch Now you bare only this one against me Your weapon of choice is a poor one This dual can only end in bloodshed One of us lying face down on the concrete The other a murder, broken and cold Love, what have you done? Words are weapons, as is the lack of them So I’ll bow before we strike the first blows To hide my face one last time in shadow Your toxins, as potent as they are useless Unless you can get close again Love, what have you done?

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mean 7.33 weighted 5.63 rank 2207 views 268 View voting details →

6 votes so far. Yours would make 7.6 votes so far

A favorite of sk8rs_rule_all.

14 comments

[4] Dovina 24-Apr-05/4:00 AM Reply
Many have fought the concept of love and ended up loveless or love torn or unlovable. Love always wins, somewhere else maybe, but it always wins. Bow down to it.
[n/a] fevriere › Dovina 24-Apr-05/3:31 PM Reply
Amen to that.
[n/a] thepinkbunnyofdoom › fevriere 24-Apr-05/5:08 PM Reply
Since when did it become custom, merely to reply to comments, as opposed to voting yourself?
[n/a] fevriere › thepinkbunnyofdoom 25-Apr-05/8:35 AM Reply
Since I felt more moved to applaud the comment than the poem. No offense intended. I have a short attention span.
[n/a] thepinkbunnyofdoom › fevriere 25-Apr-05/10:21 AM Reply
Then vote, or stop wasting people's time. A.D.D. is a bitch I know, but really. You might as well not even waste time reading poetry if you're not going to offer an intellectual output of some sort afterwards, or vote.
[n/a] zodiac › thepinkbunnyofdoom 25-Apr-05/11:06 PM Reply
Maybe she figured you'd already pre-voted her vote with one of your dozens of self-10s.
[n/a] thepinkbunnyofdoom › zodiac 26-Apr-05/1:01 AM Reply
Ever look at the vote details? Look at anything I've posted in the last two years. You'll find no votes for myself. Before that, Eh? Yeah, so what of it. The writings from before then are just as bad as any of the current ranker toddlers. I don't give myself votes anymore, and I tend to avoid using my other usernames to vote or comment. So what the fuck are you smoking?
[n/a] fevriere › thepinkbunnyofdoom 26-Apr-05/1:28 PM Reply
I was affording myself time off my duty to Poesy as Head Critic. Maybe you need to do the same?
[n/a] thepinkbunnyofdoom › Dovina 24-Apr-05/5:06 PM Reply
I see how you got the Idea that this was about "Love" the concept, and not "Love" the affectionate title for someone you love.
[4] Dovina › thepinkbunnyofdoom 25-Apr-05/11:08 AM Reply
Amen to that.
[n/a] thepinkbunnyofdoom › Dovina 26-Apr-05/7:47 PM Reply
I merely said I saw how you got that Idea. Not that you were right.
[n/a] zodiac › Dovina 27-Apr-05/6:05 AM Reply
Yes, but however true or untrue the love, it always ends in some nightmarish lingerie and candlelight, pleading for some schmuck not to think you pathetic.

Incidentally, I'm posting a poem on the topic. Will you please take a look?
[4] Dovina › zodiac 27-Apr-05/6:23 AM Reply
Then try Victoria's Secret chaffon panties and matching bra. I believe you'll become more attractive.

I will if you will.
[n/a] zodiac › Dovina 27-Apr-05/6:39 AM Reply
That's never the way it works. I'll be all cellulite and desperation, you won't even remove your sportcoat before I blow you.

And besides, I'm married.

Actually, the poem comes from the Negro conversation. If it's impossible for whites to write about blacks fairly, it ought to be impossible for me to write about women fairly. Don't you think?