Monday, February 28, 2011

The breathtaking art of Zou Chuan-an

Flowers, by Zou Chuan-an 

IV. The Emperor.

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....  


Saturday, February 26, 2011

II. The High Priestess

High Priestess Pictures, Images and Photos

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

The Fool


Letters

Madrazo_y_Garreta_The_Love_Letter



letters

dream catchers of the heart

whispers

eyes closed, a vision of love,

pale lips kissed the white paper 

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.

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.

Gently...






clouds of the evening
and the rain so far away
in shadows
my heart, the moon cut in two
you flow from my eyes, gently...

Friday, February 18, 2011

Nightbird...



  
my secret nightbird


how your song pierces my heart

when you sing so sad

every sound a new born thorn

as i lay alone tonight...



Roman garden painting, detail, first century A.D.
Casa del Bracciale d’Oro, Pompeii

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


 LLIN ZHANG JONES PHOTOGRAPHY


Announced by all the trumpets of the sky,
Arrives the snow, and, driving o'er the fields,
Seems nowhere to alight: the whited air
Hides hill and woods, the river, and the heaven,
And veils the farmhouse at the garden's end.
The sled and traveller stopped, the courier's feet
Delated, all friends shut out, the housemates sit
Around the radiant fireplace, enclosed
In a tumultuous privacy of storm.
Come see the north wind's masonry.
Out of an unseen quarry evermore
Furnished with tile, the fierce artificer
Curves his white bastions with projected roof
Round every windward stake, or tree, or door.
Speeding, the myriad-handed, his wild work
So fanciful, so savage, nought cares he
For number or proportion. Mockingly,
On coop or kennel he hangs Parian wreaths;
A swan-like form invests the hiddden thorn;
Fills up the famer's lane from wall to wall,
Maugre the farmer's sighs; and at the gate
A tapering turret overtops the work.
And when his hours are numbered, and the world
Is all his own, retiring, as he were not,
Leaves, when the sun appears, astonished Art
To mimic in slow structures, stone by stone,
Built in an age, the mad wind's night-work,
The frolic architecture of the snow.

Monday, February 14, 2011

The Circus of Love

I am the Circus of  Love.
!!!...Pierrot, by Carlos Bonvalot, Museo do Chiado, Lisbon
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

Charles Demuth’s 1917 watercolor The Circus. Photo, Columbus Museum of Art
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 



Sunday, February 13, 2011

A love quote...


Poet to His Love, by Maxwell Bodenheim


An old silver church in a forest
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

My stolen kiss...




Lantern Guardian, by Jia Lu 



my stolen kiss

an ornament of love 



to be worn proudly 

like a minuscule sun…

The poetess



Behind every verse

behind every word

behind white empty paper

behind my thoughts

there is

always

you...

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


An ancient storm...


Desktop NexusWallpapers > 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/844/572/572443844.img.jpg


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... 

Infinity...




Two heartbeats, one touch
twin mirror reflecting love
to infinity…

Shiver...

Whispering lovers, by Minion 


your soft voice in the night
so powerful it can make me shake for ever
your lips breathing
close to my ears
making me shiver - 
and then
I lose myself
inside you... 

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