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[Jennifer C]

Love's Philosophy

The fountains mingle with the river

And the rivers with the Ocean,

The winds of Heaven mix for ever

With a sweet emotion;

Nothing in the world is single;

All things by a law divine

In one spirit meet and mingle.

Why not I with thine? -



See the mountains kiss high Heaven

And the waves clasp one another;

No sister-flower would be forgiven

If it disdained its brother;

And the sunlight clasps the earth

And the moonbeams kiss the sea:

What is all this sweet work worth

If thou kiss not me?

Percy Bysshe Shelley

 

[RhymeFairy]

A Deep Sworn Vow



Others because you did not keep
That deep-sworn vow have been friends of mine;
Yet always when I look death in the face,
When I clamber to the heights of sleep,
Or when I grow excited with wine,
Suddenly I meet your face.




~ William Butler Yeats ~

 

[Jennifer C]

Eyes and Tears

How wisely Nature did decree,
With the same Eyes to weep and see!
That, having view'd the object vain,
They might be ready to complain.

And since the Self-deluding Sight,
In a false Angle takes each hight;
These Tears which better measure all,
Like wat'ry Lines and Plummets fall.

Two Tears, which Sorrow long did weigh
Within the Scales of either Eye,
And then paid out in equal Poise,
Are the true price of all my Joyes.

What in the World most fair appears,
Yea even Laughter, turns to Tears:
And all the Jewels which we prize,
Melt in these Pendants of the Eyes.

I have through every Garden been,
Amongst the Red,the White, the Green;
And yet, from all the flow'rs I saw,
No Honey, but these Tears could draw.

So the all-seeing Sun each day
Distills the World with Chymick Ray;
But finds the Essence only Showers,
Which straight in pity back he powers.

Yet happy they whom Grief doth bless,
That weep the more, and see the less:
And, to preserve their Sight more true,
Bath still their Eyes in their own Dew.

So 'Magdalen',* in Tears more wise
Dissolv'd those captivating Eyes,
Whose liquid Chains could flowing meet
To fetter her Redeemers feet.

Not full sailes hasting loaden home,
Nor the chast Ladies pregnant Womb,
Nor 'Cynthia' Teeming show's so fair,
As two Eyes swoln with weeping are.

The sparkling Glance that shoots Desire,
Drench'd in these Waves, does lose it fire.
Yea oft the Thund'rer pitty takes
And here the hissing Lightning slakes.

The Incense was to Heaven dear,
Not as a Perfume, but a Tear.
And Stars shew lovely in the Night,
But as they seem the Tears of Light.

Ope then mine Eyes your double Sluice,
And practise so your noblest Use.
For others too can see, or sleep;
But only humane Eyes can weep.

Now like two Clouds dissolving, drop,
And at each Tear in distance stop:
Now like two Fountains trickle down:
Now like two floods o'return and drown.

Thus let your Streams o'reflow your Springs,
Till Eyes and Tears be the same things:
And each the other's difference bears;
These weeping Eyes, those seeing Tears.

Andrew Marvell

 

[Jennifer C]

I Hid My Love

I hid my love when young till I
Couldn't bear the buzzing of a fly;
I hid my love to my despite
Till I could not bear to look at light:
I dare not gaze upon her face
But left her memory in each place;
Where'er I saw a wild flower lie
I kissed and bade my love good-bye.
I met her in the greenest dells,
Where dewdrops pearl the wood bluebells;
The lost breeze kissed her bright blue eye,
The bee kissed and went singing by,
A sunbeam found a passage there,
A gold chain round her neck so fair;
As secret as the wild bee's song
She lay there all the summer long.
I hid my love in field and town
Till e'en the breeze would knock me down;
The bees seemed singing ballads o'er,
The fly's bass turned a lion's roar;
And even silence found a tongue,
To haunt me all the summer long;
The riddle nature could not prove
Was nothing else but secret love.

John Clare

 

[PatCarrington]

Bagels and Donuts by David Ochs


The healthiest thing to eat
in Lon's donut shop is bagels
and one morning before work
I wanted a bagel
a donut
is a bad way to start your day
doing something you shouldn't
before your eye's are barely open
sets a bad tone
eating a donut
would cause my blood sugar to rise
and then my pancreas has to secrete insulin
to get my blood sugar down
then I'd get another
sugar craving from low blood sugar
and want another donut
which is a pretty vicious cycle
like drugs
but then I remembered
Lon doesn't toast his bagels
he used to toast them
but he said his toaster broke
but I don't know
if the toaster really broke
or if Lon got rid of it
because Lon thinks
you can microwave bagels
I tried Lon's microwaved bagels
they were really awful
like when they first came out
with toaster pizza
about thirty years ago
you'll notice they haven't
made some new and improved
toaster pizza's that are palatable
because you can't make
a good toaster pizza
just like you can't
make a good microwaved bagel
anyway I asked Lon
if he could toast me a bagel
but he tells me no
he'll microwave it
I tell him microwaved bagels
don't taste good
there's an air of tension between us
I think, how can I explain it to Lon
in a tactful way
bagels can't be microwaved
I'm a half-Jewish guy from Brooklyn
where I've had bagels so good
you can eat half a dozen at one time
you don't even need cream cheese
or anything
but I'm in Lon's donut shop
in California
and to boot he's from Cambodia
I don't think they have bagels in Cambodia
I don't think they even have bread
in Cambodia
their starch is rice
then I realize the cultural divide
is too great between us
I could argue with Lon
until I'm blue in the face
but it would only make me sound
like a half-Jewish, New York, intellectual snob
and besides, I really like Lon
and don't want to jeopardize
the mutual affability we have
and the bottom line is
it's Lon's shop
and he can microwave bagels
if he so chooses
so I dropped it
but still stuck to my principals
I didn't get a donut
just a coffee to go.

 

[Jennifer C]

Eugene Field

With Trumpet and Drum

With big tin trumpet and little red drum
Marching like soldiers, the children come!
My! but that music of theirs is fine!
This way and that way, and after a while
They march straight into this heart of mine!
A sturdy old heart, but it has to succumb
To the blare of that trumpet and beat of that drum!

Come on, little people, from cot and from hall-
This heart it hath welcome and room for you all!
It will sing you it's songs and warm you with love,
As your dear little arms with my arms intertwine;
It will rock you away to the dreamland above-
Oh, a jolly old heart is this heart of mine,
And jollier still is it bound to become
When you blow that big trumpet and beat that red drum!

So come; though I see not his dear little face
And hear not his voice in this jubilant place,
I know he were happy to bid me enshrine
His memory deep in my heart with your play-
Ah me! But a love that is sweeter than mine
Holdeth my boy in its keeping to-day!
And my heart it is lonely-so little folk come,
March in and make merry with trumpet and drum!

 

[Jennifer C]

FOG

The fog comes
on little cat feet.

It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.

Carl Sandburg

 

[Jennifer C]

Stars poem - Emily Bronte





Ah! why, because the dazzling sun
Restored our earth to joy
Have you departed, every one,
And left a desert sky?

All through the night, your glorious eyes
Were gazing down in mine,
And with a full heart's thankful sighs
I blessed that watch divine!

I was at peace, and drank your beams
As they were life to me
And revelled in my changeful dreams
Like petrel on the sea.

Thought followed thought star followed star
Through boundless regions on,
While one sweet influence, near and far,
Thrilled through and proved us one.

Why did the morning dawn to break
So great, so pure a spell,
And scorch with fire the tranquil cheek
Where your cool radiance fell?

Blood-red he rose, and arrow-straight
His fierce beams struck my brow:
The soul of Nature sprang elate,
But mine sank sad and low!

My lids closed down, yet through their veil
I saw him blazing still;
And steep in gold the misty dale
And flash upon the hill.

I turned me to the pillow then
To call back Night, and see
Your worlds of solemn light, again
Throb with my heart and me!

It would not do the pillow glowed
And glowed both roof and floor,
And birds sang loudly in the wood,
And fresh winds shook the door.

The curtains waved, the wakened flies
Were murmuring round my room,
Imprisoned there, till I should rise
And give them leave to roam.

O Stars and Dreams and Gentle Night;
O Night and Stars return!
And hide me from the hostile light
That does not warm, but burn

That drains the blood of suffering men;
Drinks tears, instead of dew:
Let me sleep through his blinding reign,
And only wake with you!

 

[Jennifer C]

A Good Night



Close now thine eyes and rest secure;
Thy soul is safe enough, thy body sure;
He that loves thee, He that keeps
And guards thee, never slumbers, never sleeps.
The smiling conscience in a sleeping breast
Has only peace, has only rest;
The music and the mirth of kings
Are all but very discords, when she sings;
Then close thine eyes and rest secure;
No sleep so sweet as thine, no rest so sure.

Francis Quarles

 

[RhymeFairy]

A November Night


There! See the line of lights,
A chain of stars down either side the street --
Why can't you lift the chain and give it to me,
A necklace for my throat? I'd twist it round
And you could play with it. You smile at me
As though I were a little dreamy child
Behind whose eyes the fairies live. . . . And see,
The people on the street look up at us
All envious. We are a king and queen,
Our royal carriage is a motor bus,
We watch our subjects with a haughty joy. . . .
How still you are! Have you been hard at work
And are you tired to-night? It is so long
Since I have seen you -- four whole days, I think.
My heart is crowded full of foolish thoughts
Like early flowers in an April meadow,
And I must give them to you, all of them,
Before they fade. The people I have met,
The play I saw, the trivial, shifting things
That loom too big or shrink too little, shadows
That hurry, gesturing along a wall,
Haunting or gay -- and yet they all grow real
And take their proper size here in my heart
When you have seen them. . . . There's the Plaza now,
A lake of light! To-night it almost seems
That all the lights are gathered in your eyes,
Drawn somehow toward you. See the open park
Lying below us with a million lamps
Scattered in wise disorder like the stars.
We look down on them as God must look down
On constellations floating under Him
Tangled in clouds. . . . Come, then, and let us walk
Since we have reached the park. It is our garden,
All black and blossomless this winter night,
But we bring April with us, you and I;
We set the whole world on the trail of spring.
I think that every path we ever took
Has marked our footprints in mysterious fire,
Delicate gold that only fairies see.
When they wake up at dawn in hollow tree-trunks
And come out on the drowsy park, they look
Along the empty paths and say, "Oh, here
They went, and here, and here, and here! Come, see,
Here is their bench, take hands and let us dance
About it in a windy ring and make
A circle round it only they can cross
When they come back again!" . . . Look at the lake --
Do you remember how we watched the swans
That night in late October while they slept?
Swans must have stately dreams, I think. But now
The lake bears only thin reflected lights
That shake a little. How I long to take
One from the cold black water -- new-made gold
To give you in your hand! And see, and see,
There is a star, deep in the lake, a star!
Oh, dimmer than a pearl -- if you stoop down
Your hand could almost reach it up to me. . . .

There was a new frail yellow moon to-night --
I wish you could have had it for a cup
With stars like dew to fill it to the brim. . . .

How cold it is! Even the lights are cold;
They have put shawls of fog around them, see!
What if the air should grow so dimly white
That we would lose our way along the paths
Made new by walls of moving mist receding
The more we follow. . . . What a silver night!
That was our bench the time you said to me
The long new poem -- but how different now,
How eerie with the curtain of the fog
Making it strange to all the friendly trees!
There is no wind, and yet great curving scrolls
Carve themselves, ever changing, in the mist.
Walk on a little, let me stand here watching
To see you, too, grown strange to me and far. . . .
I used to wonder how the park would be
If one night we could have it all alone --
No lovers with close arm-encircled waists
To whisper and break in upon our dreams.
And now we have it! Every wish comes true!
We are alone now in a fleecy world;
Even the stars have gone. We two alone!

Sarah Teasdale


Could not resist sharing another of her poems.
Gotta love her images, and wording.
As if she picked each word, put it right there,
perfection to me ~

 

[Jennifer C]

Trust Only Your Wings

if one day our love flies away from us, my love,
like smoke with a rucksack at its back
if our love goes away, my love,
somewhere we haven't dreamt of
like the dust fallen off from the wing of a butterfly
hit by an angel
or like a broken branch floating in a waterfall
trust only your wings

life is a door handle which we hold tightly
at the edge of a void we created ourselves
and love, a violin that fell into our deepest well
when the roads we walk on get narrower
and the stairs we step on collapse
my love
trust only your wings


lovers know that
spring is a shower of birds
the taboos created by those who are unable to love
disappear in the childish shades of summer
and love goes to pieces in our mouths
as autumn dissolves like a piece of yellow candy
and if there is talk of an unending winter, my love,
beloved,
trust only your wings


when I hold out my hand to show you the ships
there's a captain at the helm fainted by the odour of blood
in the horizon a country floating towards the heart of fire
and a swarm of locusts coming out of the suitcases
as the feathers of doves
hit by fighters in the air scatter away
my love
comb your hair on the ever-changing maps
and trust only your wings


if they take me away one day with my hands tied
to places unknown by my poems and every other soul
stand on the rusty shoulder of the world
like a migratory bird flown out from my forehead
and when you take off heading for my absence
fear not, my love
fear not
trust only your wings


Akg�n Akova

 

[Jennifer C]

He is More Than a Hero

He is more than a hero
he is a god in my eyes--
the man who is allowed
to sit beside you -- he

who listens intimately
to the sweet murmur of
your voice, the enticing

laughter that makes my own
heart beat fast. If I meet
you suddenly, I can'

speak -- my tongue is broken;
a thin flame runs under
my skin; seeing nothing,

hearing only my own ears
drumming, I drip with sweat;
trembling shakes my body

and I turn paler than
dry grass. At such times
death isn't far from me


Sappho

 

[Jennifer C]

By Night When Others Soundly Slept

By night when others soundly slept
And hath at once both ease and Rest,
My waking eyes were open kept
And so to lie I found it best.

I sought him whom my Soul did Love,
With tears I sought him earnestly.
He bow'd his ear down from Above.
In vain I did not seek or cry.

My hungry Soul he fill'd with Good;
He in his Bottle put my tears,
My smarting wounds washt in his blood,
And banisht thence my Doubts and fears.

What to my Saviour shall I give
Who freely hath done this for me?
I'll serve him here whilst I shall live
And Loue him to Eternity

Anne Bradstreet

 

[Jennifer C]

As One Listens to the Rain

Listen to me as one listens to the rain,
not attentive, not distracted,
light footsteps, thin drizzle,
water that is air, air that is time,
the day is still leaving,
the night has yet to arrive,
figurations of mist
at the turn of the corner,
figurations of time
at the bend in this pause,
listen to me as one listens to the rain,
without listening, hear what I say
with eyes open inward, asleep
with all five senses awake,
it's raining, light footsteps, a murmur of syllables,
air and water, words with no weight:
what we are and are,
the days and years, this moment,
weightless time and heavy sorrow,
listen to me as one listens to the rain,
wet asphalt is shining,
steam rises and walks away,
night unfolds and looks at me,
you are you and your body of steam,
you and your face of night,
you and your hair, unhurried lightning,
you cross the street and enter my forehead,
footsteps of water across my eyes,
listen to me as one listens to the rain,
the asphalt's shining, you cross the street,
it is the mist, wandering in the night,
it is the night, asleep in your bed,
it is the surge of waves in your breath,
your fingers of water dampen my forehead,
your fingers of flame burn my eyes,
your fingers of air open eyelids of time,
a spring of visions and resurrections,
listen to me as one listens to the rain,
the years go by, the moments return,
do you hear the footsteps in the next room?
not here, not there: you hear them
in another time that is now,
listen to the footsteps of time,
inventor of places with no weight, nowhere,
listen to the rain running over the terrace,
the night is now more night in the grove,
lightning has nestled among the leaves,
a restless garden adrift-go in,
your shadow covers this page.

Octavio Paz

 

[RhymeFairy]

Annabel Lee

It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me-
Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.


~Edgar Allan Poe


ya just have to LOVE Poe ~!!

 

[Jennifer C]

Romance

Romance, who loves to nod a sing,
With drowsy head and folded wing,
Among the green leaves as they shake
Far down within some shadowy lake,
To me a painted paroquet
Hath been - a most familiar bird -
Taught me my alphabet to say -
To lisp my very earliest word
While in the wild wood I did lie,
A child - with a most knowing eye.

Of late, eternal Condor years,
So shake the very Heaven on high
With tumult as they thunder by,
I have no time for idle cares
Through gazing on the unquiet sky,
And when an hour with calmer wings
Its down upon my spirit flings -
That litle time with lyre and rhyme
To while away - forbidden thing!
My heart would feel to be a crime
Unless it trembled with the strings.

Edgar Allen Poe


Yeah ya gotta ~

 

[MRWIGGLEWORM]

To One In Paridise

Thou wast that all to me, live,
For which my soul did pine-
A green isle in the sea, love,
A fountain and a shrine,
All wreathed with fairy fruits and flowers,
And all the flowers were mine.

Ah, dream too bright to last!
Ah,starry Hope! that didst arise
But to be overcast!
A voice from out the Future cries,
"On! on!"-but o'er the Past
(Dim gulf!) my spirit hovering lies
Mute, motionless, agast!

For, alas! alas! with me
The light of Life is o'er!
No more-no more-no more-
(Such language holds the solemn sea
To the sands upon the shore)
Shall bloom the thunder-blasted tree,
Or the stricken eagle soar!

And all my days are trances,
And all my nightly dreams
Are where thy grey eye glances,
Are where thy footstep gleams-
In what ethereal dances,
By what ethereal streams.


EDGAR ALLAN POE
(1845)


How can you look at a raven and not think of poe?

 

[Jennifer C]

Sonnet XLVI



Of all the stars I admired, drenched
in various rivers and mists,
I chose only the one I love.
Since then I sleep with the night.

Of all the waves, one wave and another wave,
green sea, green chill, branchings of green,
I chose only the one wave,
the indivisible wave of your body.

All the waterdrops, all the roots,
all the threads of light gathered to me here;
they came to me sooner or later.

I wanted your hair, all for myself.
From all the graces my homeland offered
I chose only your savage heart.


©Pablo Neruda

 

[MRWIGGLEWORM]

Pablo Neruda

Beloved of the rivers,beset
by azure water and transparent drops,
like a tree of veins your spectre
of dark goddess biting apples:
and then awakening naked
to be tattoed by the rivers,
and in the wet heights your head
filled the world with new dew.
Water rose to your waist,
You are made of wellsprings
and lakes shone on your forehead.
From your sources of density you drew
water like vital tears
and hauled the river-beds to the sand
across the planetary night,
crossing rough, dilated stone,
breaking down on the way
all the salt of geology,
cutting through forests of compact walls
dislodging the muscles of quartz.

 

[Jennifer C]

The Rough Man Entered the Lover's Garden

The rough man entered the lover's garden
It is woods now, my beautiful one, it is woods,
Gathering roses, he has broken their stems
They are dry now, my beautiful one, they are dry

In this square our hide is stretched
Blessed be, we saw our friend off to God
One day, too, black dust must cover us
We will rot, my beautiful one, we will rot

He himself reads and He also writes
God's holy hand has closed her crescent eyebrows
Your peers are wandering in Paradise
They are free, my beautiful one, they are free

Whatever religion you are, I'll worship it too
I will be torn off with you even the Day of Judgment
Bend for once, let me kiss you on your white neck
Just stay there for a moment, my beautiful one, just stay there

I'm Pir Sultan Abdal, I start from the root
I eat the kernel and throw out the evil weed
And weave from a thousand flowers to one hive honey
I am an honest bee, my beautiful one, an honest bee.


Pir Sultan Abdal

 

[Jennifer C]

Ruth

She stood breast high amid the corn,

Clasped by the golden light of morn,

Like the sweetheart of the sun,

Who many a glowing kiss had won.



On her cheek an autumn flush,

Deeply ripened; - such a blush

In the midst of brown was born,

Like red poppies grown with corn.



Round her eyes her tresses fell,

Which were blackest none could tell,

But long lashes veiled a light,

That had else been all too bright.



And her hat, with shady brim,

Made her tressy forehead dim; -

Thus she stood amid the stooks,

Praising God with sweetest looks: -



Sure, I said, heaven did not mean,

Where I reap thou shouldst but glean,

Lay thy sheaf adown and come,

Share my harvest and my home.

Thomas Hood

 

[RhymeFairy]

How Do I Love Thee?

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love with a passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, -- I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! -- and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.


~Elizabeth Barrett Browning

 

[Jennifer C]

Sonnets from the Portuguese VI: Go From Me

Go from me. Yet I feel that I shall stand
Henceforward in thy shadow. Nevermore
Alone upon the threshold of my door
Of individual life, I shall command
The uses of my soul, nor lift my hand
Serenely in the sunshine as before,
Without the sense of that which I forbore, ..
Thy touch upon the palm. The widest land
Doom takes to part us, leaves thy heart in mine
With pulses that beat double. What I do
And what I dream include thee, as the wine
Must taste of its own grapes. And when I sue
God for myself, He hears that name of thine,
And sees within my eyes, the tears of two.

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

 

[MRWIGGLEWORM]

The Lovers

In this glass palace are flowers in golden baskets.
In the grim brownstone castle are silver caskets.
The caskets watch and wait, and the baskets wait,
for a certain day and hour, and a certain gate.

Wonderfully glow the colors in this bright palace.
Superb the flora, in pyx and vase and chalice.
The glass is steamed with the stifling tuberose breath;
and lilies too, of the valley of the shadow of death.

The caskets are satin-lined, with silver handles;
and the janitor sings "they'll soon be lighting candles."
He sweeps the sidewalk, and as he sweeps he sings.
in praise of a hearse with completely noiseless springs.

Hush-the conspiracy works, it has crossed the street:
someday, and it's not far off, the lovers will meet:
casket and basket will soon set forth together
on a joyful journey, no matter how bleak the weather ;

in a beautiful beetle-back hearse with noisless tread,
basket and casket together will hie to bed;
and start on a pullman journey to a certain gate,
punctually, at a certain hour, on a certain date.


CONRAD AIKEN
(1942)


I LIKE THIS ITS KINDA SPOOKY

 

[Jennifer C]

So We'll Go No More A Roving

So we'll go no more a roving

So late into the night,

Though the heart be still as loving,

And the moon be still as bright.



For the sword outwears its sheath,

And the soul wears out the breast,

And the heart must pause to breathe,

And love itself have rest.



Though the night was made for loving,

And the day returns to soon,

Yet we'll go no more a roving

By the light of the moon.

Lord Byron