John Lars Zwerenz

Rookie - 262 Points (1-5-69 / Kew Gardens, New York, USA)

John Lars Zwerenz Poems

1. The Billowing Reeds 2/26/2013
2. To Rebecca 2/26/2013
3. The Lady Of The Garden 4/26/2013
4. The Courtyard 10/10/2013
5. My Love 10/10/2013
6. Le Chateau 11/16/2013
7. Rejoice! 12/11/2013
8. The Ghost Ship 12/15/2013
9. The Outer Darkness 12/18/2013
10. Passion 1/30/2014
11. The Baby Grand 1/30/2014
12. My Lover Is In Paradise 2/3/2014
13. Scarlet Gales 12/9/2013
14. The Grave Of Arthur Rimbaud 2/28/2014
15. Moonlight 3/13/2014
16. Your Gaze 3/15/2014
17. The Apollonian 3/15/2014
18. Your Face 3/15/2014
19. Dreaming By The Lake 3/15/2014
20. My Youth 3/29/2014
21. Fire 4/3/2014
22. The Grove 4/4/2014
23. The Infinite 4/5/2014
24. Sunset 3/13/2014
25. 'The Sky Is So Blue, So Pure, And So Soft..' 3/16/2014
26. Ecstatic Wine 3/16/2014
27. Wines 4/6/2014
28. The Conservatory 4/13/2014
29. June 4/26/2014
30. Eternity 4/27/2014
31. The Swashbuckler 4/28/2014
32. A Grecian Tale 4/28/2014
33. The Starlit Night 5/2/2014
34. By The Lake 5/8/2014
35. Par Le Lac 5/9/2014
36. Poetry 5/10/2014
37. The Lady Of The Bastion 5/26/2014
38. Asleep In The Garden 5/26/2014
39. The Graveyard 6/5/2014
40. Torment (The Guest) 6/5/2014
Best Poem of John Lars Zwerenz

Love

The morn is giving birth
To the dawn- yet to reign, still budding, undone.
Shall you play the earth,
And me the sun? -
Why not? -
Let us go, let us go
Where the blue currents run,
Now hither, now there, now high, now low,
Upon the lot
Of the breeze-caressed hill.
Let me kiss your sweet flesh of the daffodil,
And embrace you in the waking glen.
And then, let me love you
In the succulent vineyards,
In the blooms of the hazy, yawning garden.
And there, beneath the greenish hue
Of the quickening firmament,
Astonishing and bright,
Where...

Read the full of Love

Ode To Edgar Allan Poe

ODE TO EDGAR ALLAN POE

The tall, ruined tower, by the sea of sable wine,
Where silver stars alight, in the moonless night,
Is the seat of a raven which rarely takes flight;
Its dark eyes look down on the scorpions of the brine.

With each chilling breeze that poison billows carry
From dusky, northern currents of the half-swallowed pier,

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