a fleeting guess
Love, a timeless dance
Love, a grand distress
A sense of something dense,
A sense of bliss.
A sense of timeless innocence,
A sense of what we miss.
Of joy, ever pervasive.
Of life, a breath to breathe.
Of sadness, quite invasive
Of death, a looming reave
I seemed to have loved you numberless times, in numberless forms...
In life afer life, age after age, forvever.
My spellbound heart has made and remade the necklace of songs,
That you take as a gift, wear around your neck in your many forms,
In life after life, in age after age...
have taken up residence within my heart... but more than other, this poem holds a beautiful lasting significance...
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in]
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear;and whatever is...
i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite a new 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...
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day.
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.
I hunger for your sleek laugh,
your hands, the color of a savage harvest,
hunger for the pale stones of your...
After a while you learn the subtle difference
between holding a hand and chaining a soul
and you learn that love doesn't mean leaning
and company doesn't always mean security.
And you begin to learn that kisses aren't contracts
and presents aren't promises
and you begin...
Is love found in holding hands?
In quiet whispers?
In looks shared across a crowded room?
Is love shared in notes?
Is love felt with a quickening pulse?
A feeling of loss in her absence?
A longing to see but a glimpse of her?
Is love heard through...
diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth
Then took the other, and just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted...
it's funny how hello is always accompanied with goodbye it's funny how good memories can start to make you cry it's funny how forever never seems to last it's funny how much you'd lose if you forgot about your past it's funny how “friends” can just...
He creates powerfully romantic, sensual images that speak to being human, and our desire for romantic love. Beautiful!
Place your hands upon me
like a big tent preacher
and with a whisper
heal all that aches
Put your lips upon my forehead
and glance your eyes
to the sky...
I though of this one. This is one of my favorites which means a lot to me. Shelley wrote beautifully with a heart which must have been full of passion. Enjoy. ~J
by Percy Bysshe Shelley
The fountains mingle with the river,
And the rivers with the ocean...
not think of you lying in the wet clay
Of a Monaghan graveyard; I see
You walking down a lane among the poplars
On your way to the station, or happily
Going to second Mass on a summer Sunday -
You meet me and you say:
'Don't forget to see about the cattle - '
Loneliness is what i feel
I feel so alone
I feel so isolated
The emptyness in my heart
Can not be feeled by any soul
I am surounded by people but yet i feel so alone
I am in a room so small and so dark
Fear takes over me, i scream but no one hears me
This room so small and tiny...
and Air by James Joycefor Bloomsday June 16th 2015Strings in the earth and airMake music sweet;Strings by the river whereThe willows meet.There's music along the riverFor Love wanders there,Pale flowers on his mantle,Dark leaves on his hair.All softly playing,With head to the...
not lost in you,
Not lost, although I long to be
Lost as a candle lit at noon,
Lost as a snowflake in the sea.
You love me, and I find you still
A spirit beautiful and bright,
Yet I am I, who long to be
Lost as a light is lost in light.
Oh plunge me deep in love—put out
darkness eclipses all base emotion from my flesh bleeds a ocean Scarlett tears real in my devotion
a crimson orb paints the sky with blood as life from my body mixes with the mud
I stand upon the threshold looking upon that which none have dared to venture forth and...
There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society, where none intrudes,
By the deep sea, and music in it's roar:
I love not man the less, but Nature more,
From these our interviews, in which I steal,
From all I may be, and...
even know your name
But today, from now on
You're always on my mind
I never could have predicted
That I would feel this way
You are a beautiful surprise
An inspiration to my life
Whatever you came to teach me
I am here to receive the gift
I believe you came for a reason
in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless...
Every once in a while I will come across a piece of poetry that is just so real to me , it moves me to tears. Here is the latest one to give me that feeling.The author talks about having a dream with one of his daughters in it,talking to him about his life struggles.
Because of you, I am able to
Express everything from my soul
No matter what hand I was dealt
You've always been there for me
Worries, tears, heartaches and fears
Friendships, love, joys, and tragedies
I find myself writing about you
You always seem to get me through...
- "Ode On Melancholy"
NO, no, go not to Lethe, neither twist
Wolfs-bane, tight-rooted, for its poisonous wine;
Nor suffer thy pale forehead to be kiss’d
By nightshade, ruby grape of Proserpine;
Make not your rosary of yew-berries,
Nor let the beetle...
secret of death.
But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heart of life?
The owl whose night-bound eyes are blind unto the day cannot unveil the mystery of light.
If you would indeed behold the spirit of death, open your heart wide unto the body of life.
“I want to see you.Know your voice.Recognize you when youfirst come 'round the corner.Sense your scent when I come into a room you've just left.Know the lift of your heel,the glide of your foot.Become familiar with the way you purse your lipsthen let them part, just the...
the same old place
Same old faces watching me
Who knows how long I'll have to stay
Sometimes I drift away
From all the dull routine
A fantasy enters my mind
An escape from drudgery
Lately my luck has been so bad
I lost my ways, I lost my mind
I was losing all that I was
I will take you to museums, and parks, and monuments, and kiss you in every beautiful place, so that you can never go back to them without tasting me like blood in your mouth.
I will destroy you in the most beautiful way possible. And when I leave you will finally understand...
On peaceful days with bright blue skies.Or life can be the raindrops,That fall like tears squeezed from your eyes.Life can be the heaven,That you'll only reach through hell.Since you won't know that you're happy,If you've not been sad as well.Life can teach hard lessons,But you...
up, your mum and dad
They may not mean to, but they do
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you
But they were ****** up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another's throats
after many years
of hard work and a long voyage
you stand in the centre of your room,
house, half acre, square mile, island, country
knowing at last how you got there,
and say I own this,
is the same moment when the trees unloose
there soft arms from around you,
the birds take...
who was wonderful and so very funny. We attended his funeral, a few days ago, and this poem was read. It was found in a schoolbook he had kept for over 70 years.
Spring Morning by A.A. Milne
Where am I going? I don't quite know.
Down to the stream where the king-cups...
Fewness of this precious only
Endless world in which you say
You live, you think of things like this:
Blocks of slate enclosing dappled
Red and green, enclosing tawny
Yellow nets, enclosing white
And black acres of dominoes,
Where a neat brown paper parcel...
As if, through a mist, a first loom;
You are a fine line that holds beauty
So fragile it seems, yet so pretty.
You are the wind that grace my meadows
Of thoughts and lights up my weary shadows;
You are the sun after my night
That lights up everything in sight.