Monday, February 28, 2011
Anticipation...
anticipation
i listen to the swift step of time
Fallen, by Kim Nelson © 2005 Kim Nelson All Rights Reserved http://www.kimnelson.com.au |
crossing over my skin at nights,
i measure distance
with the echo of your voice -
waves of this sea between us
bring to me smiles, funny faces under un umbrella,
touching fingers across a table...
the sun rises and sets
finding me floating inside your thoughts
liquid solitude
flowing from every pore of my heart...
Late in the afternoon
i open my eyes touched by your shadow
i eat you breathe you smell you
the ceiling of my room turns into
one reversed meadow of your face...
you crawl on me like a lost dream
I hang on to your neck
I want to stay there forever
tasting with my lips
your heartthrob...
I am waiting for you
every day
every night
watching you coming closer and closer
behind my eclipsed moon
My hands full of heather...
my heart full of you....
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Our Night by Gord Merritt
Lovers, by Irina Vitalievna Karkabi |
Taking your hand
Fingers to my lips
I want to love every inch of you
Taste every part of your body
As if I can drink your loves blood
Through your very pores
I want to get lost in your eyes
Consumed by your kiss
Set my body on fire
Quench the fire in my blood
With sweet caresses
Touch my soul with your passion
Lay down beside me
Feel my body crying for you
Let's get lost in each other
Touching, exploring, tasting
We will exceed passion, go beyond bliss
For this is our night
Want me, like no other
Need you, like the air that I breathe
Together, one mind, one soul
Fused in the heat of passionate love
Existing in this moment
Forever
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Monday, February 21, 2011
Sunday, February 20, 2011
George Bernard Shaw To ‘Stella’ Beatrice Campbell
February 27, 1913
I want my rapscallionly fellow vagabond.
I want my dark lady. I want my angel -
I want my tempter.
I want my Freia with her apples.
I want the lighter of my seven lamps of beauty, honour,
laughter, music, love, life and immortality ... I want
my inspiration, my folly, my happiness,
my divinity, my madness, my selfishness,
my final sanity and sanctification,
my transfiguration, my purification,
my light across the sea,
my palm across the desert,
my garden of lovely flowers,
my million nameless joys,
my day’s wage,
my night’s dream,
my darling and
my star...
Love letter from Honore de Balzac to Evelina Hanska, a Polish countess, June 1836.
Sunday 19th
My beloved angel,
I am nearly mad about you, as much as one can be mad: I cannot bring together two ideas that you do not interpose yourself between them.
I can no longer think of anything but you. In spite of myself, my imagination carries me to you. I grasp you, I kiss you, I caress you, a thousand of the most amorous caresses take possession of me.
As for my heart, there you will always be - very much so. I have a delicious sense of you there. But my God, what is to become of me, if you have deprived me of my reason? This is a monomania which, this morning, terrifies me.
I rise up every moment saying to myself, "Come, I am going there!" Then I sit down again, moved by the sense of my obligations. There is a frightful conflict. This is not life. I have never before been like that. You have devoured everything.
I feel foolish and happy as soon as I think of you. I whirl round in a delicious dream in which in one instant I live a thousand years. What a horrible situation!
Overcome with love, feeling love in every pore, living only for love, and seeing oneself consumed by griefs, and caught in a thousand spiders' threads.
O, my darling Eva, you did not know it. I picked up your card. It is there before me, and I talk to you as if you were there. I see you, as I did yesterday, beautiful, astonishingly beautiful.
Yesterday, during the whole evening, I said to myself "she is mine!" Ah! The angels are not as happy in Paradise as I was yesterday!
Honore de Balzac, French writer, to Evelina Hanska, a Polish countess, June 1836.
My beloved angel,
I am nearly mad about you, as much as one can be mad: I cannot bring together two ideas that you do not interpose yourself between them.
I can no longer think of anything but you. In spite of myself, my imagination carries me to you. I grasp you, I kiss you, I caress you, a thousand of the most amorous caresses take possession of me.
As for my heart, there you will always be - very much so. I have a delicious sense of you there. But my God, what is to become of me, if you have deprived me of my reason? This is a monomania which, this morning, terrifies me.
I rise up every moment saying to myself, "Come, I am going there!" Then I sit down again, moved by the sense of my obligations. There is a frightful conflict. This is not life. I have never before been like that. You have devoured everything.
I feel foolish and happy as soon as I think of you. I whirl round in a delicious dream in which in one instant I live a thousand years. What a horrible situation!
Overcome with love, feeling love in every pore, living only for love, and seeing oneself consumed by griefs, and caught in a thousand spiders' threads.
O, my darling Eva, you did not know it. I picked up your card. It is there before me, and I talk to you as if you were there. I see you, as I did yesterday, beautiful, astonishingly beautiful.
Yesterday, during the whole evening, I said to myself "she is mine!" Ah! The angels are not as happy in Paradise as I was yesterday!
Honore de Balzac, French writer, to Evelina Hanska, a Polish countess, June 1836.
O! Never Say That I Was False Of Heart - Shakespeare Sonnet 109
ROSE FRANTZEN: BEYOND THORNS |
O! never say that I was false of heart,
Though absence seem'd my flame to qualify,
As easy might I from my self depart
As from my soul which in thy breast doth lie:
That is my home of love: if I have ranged,
Like him that travels, I return again;
Just to the time, not with the time exchanged,
So that myself bring water for my stain.
Never believe though in my nature reigned,
All frailties that besiege all kinds of blood,
That it could so preposterously be stained,
To leave for nothing all thy sum of good;
For nothing this wide universe I call,
Save thou, my rose, in it thou art my all.
Your Feet, by Pablo Neruda
When I cannot look at your face
I look at your feet.
Your feet of arched bone,
Guillaume Seignac, Young woman naked on a settee |
your hard little feet.
I know that they support you,
and that your sweet weight
rises upon them.
Your waist and your breasts,
the doubled purple
of your nipples,
the sockets of your eyes
that have just flown away,
your wide fruit mouth,
your red tresses,
my little tower.
But I love your feet
only because they walked
upon the earth and upon
the wind and upon the waters,
until they found me.
I am shut out of mine own heart, by Christopher Brennan
I am shut out of mine own heart
because my love is far from me,
nor in the wonders have I part
that fill its hidden empery:
The wildwood of adventurous thought
and lands of dawn my dream had won,
the riches out of Faery brought
are buried with our bridal sun.
And I am in a narrow place,
and all its little streets are cold,
because the absence of her face
has robb'd the sullen air of gold.
My home is in a broader day:
at times I catch it glistening
thro' the dull gate, a flower'd play
and odour of undying spring:
The long days that I lived alone,
sweet madness of the springs I miss'd,
are shed beyond, and thro' them blown
clear laughter, and my lips are kiss'd:
And here, from mine own joy apart,
I wait the turning of the key: -
I am shut out of mine own heart
because my love is far from me.
Friday, February 18, 2011
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Sarah McLachlan - Song for a Winter's Night
The lamp is burnin' low upon my table top
The snow is softly falling
The air is still in the silence of my room
I hear your voice softly calling
If I could only have you near
To breathe a sigh or two
I would be happy just to hold the hands I love
On this winter's night with you
The smoke is rising in the shadows overhead
My glass is almost empty
I read again between the lines upon each page
The words of love you sent me
If I could know within my heart
That you were lonely too
I would be happy just to hold the hands I love
On this winter's night with you
The fire is dying now, my lamp is growing dim
The shades of night are lifting
The morning light steals across my window pane
Where webs of snow are drifting
If I could only have you near
To breathe a sigh or two
I would be happy just to hold the hands I love
On this winter's night with you
And to be once again with you
The Snow-Storm, by Ralph Waldo Emerson
Monday, February 14, 2011
The Circus of Love
I am the Circus of Love.
in my eyes you can see
trapeze flyers swinging so high,
jumping between my eyelids
when i see you...
every time i say your name
sighing, moaning, dying,
a white dove
suddenly appears
from the red scarff of my lips,
floating in the wind...
My breasts are lions,
my hands are horses,
my belly - the big top
where you watch every night
my heart
performing death defying acts
as you wait
to catch me
like a safety net ...
My legs are Clowns
- the Hobo, the Bum -
you shiver
when i wrap them around you
so pale, their curves smiling
as you caress them...
You laugh, happy
I laugh, loving you so much
I jump through Rings of Fire
Every night
the throwing knives of your love
miss me miraculously
And then
the applause
as I bow before you
and the glorious band plays
the Triumph of our Love
!!!...Pierrot, by Carlos Bonvalot, Museo do Chiado, Lisbon |
trapeze flyers swinging so high,
jumping between my eyelids
when i see you...
every time i say your name
sighing, moaning, dying,
a white dove
suddenly appears
from the red scarff of my lips,
floating in the wind...
My breasts are lions,
my hands are horses,
my belly - the big top
where you watch every night
Charles Demuth’s 1917 watercolor The Circus. Photo, Columbus Museum of Art |
performing death defying acts
as you wait
to catch me
like a safety net ...
My legs are Clowns
- the Hobo, the Bum -
you shiver
when i wrap them around you
so pale, their curves smiling
as you caress them...
You laugh, happy
I laugh, loving you so much
I jump through Rings of Fire
Every night
the throwing knives of your love
miss me miraculously
And then
the applause
as I bow before you
and the glorious band plays
the Triumph of our Love
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Poet to His Love, by Maxwell Bodenheim
Is my love for you.
The trees around it
Are words that I have stolen from your heart.
An old silver bell, the last smile you gave,
Hangs at the top of my church.
It rings only when you come through the forest
And stand beside it.
And then, it has no need for ringing,
For your voice takes its place.
The letter - From the movie "The Love Letter"
" Dearest,
Do you know how much in love with you I am? Did I trip? Did I stumble - lose my balance, graze my knee, graze my heart? I know I'm in love when I see you. I know when I long to see you, I'm on fire. Not a muscle has moved. Leaves hang unruffled by any breeze. The air is still. I have fallen in love without taking a step. You are all wrong for me and I know it, but I can no longer care for my thoughts unless they are thoughts of you. When I am close to you, I feel your hair brush my cheek when it does not. I look away from you sometimes, then I look back. When I tie my shoes, when I peel an orange, when I drive my car, when I lie down each night without you, I remain,
Yours "
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Friday, February 11, 2011
Thursday, February 10, 2011
"My Immortal Beloved...."
"Though still in bed, my thoughts go out to you, my Immortal Beloved, now and then joyfully, then sadly, waiting to learn whether or not fate will hear us - I can live only wholly with you or not at all - Yes, I am resolved to wander so long away from you until I can fly to your arms and say that I am really at home with you, and can send my soul enwrapped in you into the land of spirits - Yes, unhappily it must be so - You will be the more contained since you know my fidelity to you. No one else can ever possess my heart - never - never - Oh God, why must one be parted from one whom one so loves. And yet my life in V is now a wretched life - Your love makes me at once the happiest and the unhappiest of men - At my age I nedd a steady, quiet life - can that be so in our connection? My angel, I have just been told that the mailcoach goes every day - therefore I must close at once so that you may receive the letter at once - Be calm, only by a clam consideration of our existence can we achieve our purpose to live together - Be calm - love me - today - yesterday - what tearful longings for you - you - you - my life - my all - farewell. Oh continue to love me - never misjudge the most faithful heart of your beloved.
ever thine
ever mine
ever ours..."
Beethoven's Immortal Beloved Letters
ever thine
ever mine
ever ours..."
Beethoven's Immortal Beloved Letters
An ancient storm...
Desktop Nexus: Wallpapers > Abstract Wallpapers > Fantasy Wallpaper |
Inside my mind
fire and sea and wind and dust
an ancient storm
sand covers your thought
I have to dig
with my bare hands
to bring you to the light
my love
how can I leave you there
alone?
Holding shadows...
pic: http://pics.hi5.com/userpics/844/572/572 |
I am losing myself
in an ocean of sighs
your arms
I sail inside them
every night
wave upon wave
and then
the morning breaks
I am holding shadows...
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
The exquisite art of Bando Tamasaburo - "Kurokami" - "Black Hair"
Thoughts in confusion disheveled as the tangles of my black tresses unloosened then, as we shared a single pillow, yet how it returns to haunt me now as i sleep alone... With my single robe To cover me. 'You are mine,' he said, Not knowing the heart Of a simple girl. The voice of a temple bell, Sounds into the quiet night. Awakening from an empty dream In the morning, How lovely, sweet, And helpless is my longing. Before I know it The silver snow has piled up. | Kurokami no musuboretaru omoi wo ba tokete neta yo no makura koso hitori nuru yo no ada-makura sode wa katashiku tsuma ja to iute (ainote) guchi na onago no kokoro to shirade shin to fuketaru kane no koe Yuube no yume no kesa samete yukashi natsukashi yarusenaya tsumoru to shirade tsumoru shirayuki |
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