CLiKD's Favourite Love Poems for World Poetry Day | CLiKD

CLiKD’s Favourite Love Poems for World Poetry Day


    Ah poetry. An art form dating back to the times of the ancient Greeks and Romans, that is constantly used to expand on scenes and emotions that many struggle to put words. Definitely part of words of affirmation, it’s like a love language of its own.

    Through the millennia, the size and stories told in works have ranged from the epics of Beowulf, to the more modestly sized Haiku’s and Tanka’s of Japan.

    Throughout our lives, we’ve all written poetry. Whether it be for that competition you were forced into doing at primary school or that time you forgot Mother’s Day and reeeeeeally had to make up for it.

    We’ve all been inspired by the greats. Whether it be the mad hooks of bad boy Bill or the sweet and subtle lyricism of Christopher George Latore Wallace.

    So, without further ado may I present CLiKD’s favourite love poems:


    • Sonnet 18 – Bad Boy Bill aka William Shakespeare

    Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?

    Thou art more lovely and more temperate.

    Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,

    And summer’s lease hath all too short a date.

    Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,

    And often is his gold complexion dimmed;

    And every fair from fair sometime declines,

    By chance, or nature’s changing course, untrimmed;

    But thy eternal summer shall not fade,

    Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st,

    Nor shall death brag thou wand’rest in his shade,

    When in eternal lines to Time thou grow’st.

    So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,

    So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.


    • Me and My B*tch – Christopher George Latore Wallce aka The Notorious B.I.G aka Biggie Smalls  aka Biggie

    When I met you I admit my first thoughts was to trick
    You look so good huh, I suck on your daddy’s d*ck
    I never felt that way in my life
    It didn’t take long before I made you my wife
    Got no rings and sh*t, just my main squeeze
    Comin’ to the crib, even had a set a keys
    During the days you helped me bag up my nickels
    In the process, I admit, I tricked a little
    But you was my b*tch, the one who’d never snitch
    Love me when I’m broke or when I’m filthy f*ckin’ rich
    And I admit, when the time is right, the wine is right
    I treat you right, you talk slick, I beat you right


    • Touched by an Angel – Maya Angelou

    We, unaccustomed to courage
    exiles from delight
    live coiled in shells of loneliness
    until love leaves its high holy temple
    and comes into our sight
    to liberate us into life.
    Love arrives
    and in its train come ecstasies
    old memories of pleasure
    ancient histories of pain.
    Yet if we are bold,
    love strikes away the chains of fear
    from our souls.
    We are weaned from our timidity
    In the flush of love’s light
    we dare be brave
    And suddenly we see
    that love costs all we are
    and will ever be.
    Yet it is only love
    which sets us free.


    • I Like My Body When It Is With Your – E. E. Cummings

    i like my body when it is with your
    body. It is so quite new a thing.
    Muscles better and nerves more.
    i like your body.  i like what it does,
    i like its hows.  i like to feel the spine
    of your body and its bones,and the trembling
    -firm-smooth ness and which i will
    again and again and again
    kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
    i like, slowly stroking the,shocking fuzz
    of your electric furr,and what-is-it comes
    over parting flesh….And eyes big love-crumbs,

    and possibly i like the thrill

    of under me you so quite new



    • One Art – Elizabeth Bishop

    The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
    so many things seem filled with the intent
    to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
    Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
    of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
    The art of losing isn’t hard to master.
    Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
    places, and names, and where it was you meant
    to travel. None of these will bring disaster.
    I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or
    next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
    The art of losing isn’t hard to master.
    I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
    some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
    I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.
    —Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
    I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident
    the art of losing’s not too hard to master
    though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.
    • To My Dear And Loving Husband – Anne Bradstreet

    If ever two were one, then surely we.
    If ever man were loved by wife, then thee.
    If ever wife was happy in a man,
    Compare with me, ye women, if you can.
    prize thy love more than whole mines of gold,
    Or all the riches that the East doth hold.
    My love is such that rivers cannot quench,
    Nor ought but love from thee give recompense.
    Thy love is such I can no way repay;
    The heavens reward thee manifold, I pray.
    Then while we live, in love let’s so persever,
    That when we live no more, we may live ever.
    • “I Loved You First: But Afterwards Your Love” – Christina Rossetti

     Poca favilla gran fiamma seconda. – Dante

    Ogni altra cosa, ogni pensier va fore,
    E sol ivi con voi rimansi amore. – Petrarca

    I loved you first: but afterwards your love
    Outsoaring mine, sang such a loftier song
    As drowned the friendly cooings of my dove.
    Which owes the other most? my love was long,
    And yours one moment seemed to wax more strong;
    I loved and guessed at you, you construed me
    And loved me for what might or might not be –
    Nay, weights and measures do us both a wrong.
    For verily love knows not ‘mine’ or ‘thine;’
    With separate ‘I’ and ‘thou’ free love has done,
    For one is both and both are one in love:
    Rich love knows nought of ‘thine that is not mine;’
    Both have the strength and both the length thereof,
    Both of us, of the love which makes us one.
    • Love and Friendship – Emily Brontë

    Love is like the wild rose-briar,
    Friendship like the holly-tree—
    The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms
    But which will bloom most constantly?
    The wild rose-briar is sweet in spring,
    Its summer blossoms scent the air;
    Yet wait till winter comes again
    And who will call the wild-briar fair?
    Then scorn the silly rose-wreath now
    And deck thee with the holly’s sheen,
    That when December blights thy brow
    He still may leave thy garland green.


    • Flirtation – Rita Dove

    After all, there’s no need
    to say anything
    at first. An orange, peeled
    and quartered, flares
    like a tulip on a wedgewood plate
    Anything can happen.
    Outside the sun
    has rolled up her rugs
    and night strewn salt
    across the sky. My heart
    is humming a tune
    I haven’t heard in years!
    Quiet’s cool flesh—
    let’s sniff and eat it.
    There are ways
    to make of the moment
    a topiary
    so the pleasure’s in
    walking through.
    Before we finish, what would a blog about poetry be without a bit about self love… and who better to go to than Mr. K Omari West.
    • I Love Kanye – Mr. K Omari West aka Kanye West

    What if Kanye made a song about Kanye
    Called “I Miss The Old Kanye, ” man that would be so Kanye
    That’s all it was Kanye, we still love Kanye
    And I love you like Kanye loves Kanye

    Happy World Poetry Day!

    By Lucas Galley-Greenwood


    love on clikd