I Wish You Love I wish you bluebirds in the spring To give your heart a song to sing And then a kiss, but more than this I wish you love And in July a lemonade To cool you in some leafy glade I wish you health But more than wealth I wish you love My breaking heart and I agree That you and I could never be So with my best My very best I set you free I wish you shelter from the storm A cozy fire to keep you warm But most of all when snowflakes fall I wish you love But most of all when snowflakes fall I wish you love I wish you love I wish you love, love, love, love, love I wish you love ~Ann Sally
Here I love you. In the dark pines the wind disentangles itself. The moon glows like phosphorous on the vagrant waters. Days, all one kind, go chasing each other. The snow unfurls in dancing figures. A silver gull slips down from the west. Sometimes a sail. High, high stars. Oh the black cross of a ship. Alone. Sometimes I get up early and even my soul is wet. Far away the sea sounds and resounds. This is a port. Here I love you. Here I love you and the horizon hides you in vain. I love you still among these cold things. Sometimes my kisses go on those heavy vessels that cross the sea towards no arrival. I see myself forgotten like those old anchors. The piers sadden when the afternoon moors there. My life grows tired, hungry to no purpose. I love what I do not have. You are so far. My loathing wrestles with the slow twilights. But night comes and starts to sing to me. The moon turns its clockwork dream. The biggest stars look at me with your eyes. And as I love you, the pines in the wind want to sing your name with their leaves of wire. ~Pablo Neruda
Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself. But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires: To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night. To know the pain of too much tenderness. To be wounded by your own understanding of love; And to bleed willingly and joyfully. To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving; To rest at the noon hour and meditate love’s ecstasy; To return home at eventide with gratitude; And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips. -Kahlil Gibran
Reveille do you know the taste of morning as it slides along sleep warmed lips and blanket rubbed thighs where my hands can trace the shape of your smile and drink the awakening hours from the languid cauldron -J.W. Bouwman
I love the handful of the earth you are. Because of its meadows, vast as a planet, I have no other star. You are my replica of the multiplying universe. Your wide eyes are the only light I know from extinguished constellations; your skin throbs like the streak of a meteor through rain. Your hips were that much of the moon for me; your deep mouth and its delights, that much sun; your heart, fiery with its long red rays, was that much ardent light, like honey in the shade. So I pass across your burning form, kissing you—compact and planetary, my dove, my globe. –Pablo Neruda, “One Hundred Love Sonnets: Morning, XVI
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
I actually haven't seen the movie yet (I have a lot of catching up to do movie-wise), but my son did download it for me. I've been cleaning out closets & going through things to get ready for a yard sale, and I came across an old book of Edgar Allan Poe's writings today.
Ah. I thought you might have watched it since that particular poem in the movie anyway is written for Edgar Allan Poe's love interest and a few of the lines are recited. Interesting & okay movie. Check it out when you get a chance since it's a fictionalized account of Poe's last days and how/why he died.
I remember it being advertised and thought it sounded interesting, but I never got around to watching it. I'd forgotten all about it until my son recently said he'd downloaded it for me because it looked like it'd be something I'd like.
Funeral Blues by W H Auden (You might remember it from 4 weddings & a funeral) Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone, Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone, Silence the pianos and with muffled drum Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come. Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead Scribbling on the sky the message 'He is Dead'. Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves, Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves. He was my North, my South, my East and West, My working week and my Sunday rest, My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song; I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong. The stars are not wanted now; put out every one, Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun, Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood; For nothing now can ever come to any good.
The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost Two roads 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, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same, And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back. I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-- I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.
"WILD GEESE" by Mary Oliver You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. Tell me about your despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. Meanwhile the world goes on. Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain are moving across the landscapes, over the prairies and the deep trees, the mountains and the rivers. Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again. Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination, calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting -- over and over announcing your place in the family of things.
The walk Did you ever know As you strolled with ease Down your rosy path I walked by your side gingerly My path strewn with thorns My soles raw from keeping up tears ever inward Yet I smiled to the world alien and friendless alone in my secret agony a madness you see no one would begin to comprehend Did you ever know As you strode ahead I could walk no more You never looked back Not a single glance To where I stood Helpless Now I must find my way back To where I once belonged All the way once again This time alone… -Unknown Trapped and Alone I live here, in this land of filth, Here I sit, prosperity beyond that which I can achieve, Oh, this land, it keeps me prisoner, I cannot move on, I cannot leave. This land needs no fence or guards to imprison me, For it has already drained the fire inside, the fire of hope, Oh, this land, it shackles my soul, locks my heart. The land supplies the darkness through which I grope. Here I wander, friendless and alone, across the land, I wander through the forest of despair, all is gray, Oh this land, it cages me in the bars that are my intelligence, This land controls me, commands my mind, I’m forced to stay. -The King
Romance To clasp you now and feel your head close-pressed, Scented and warm against my beating breast; To whisper soft and quivering your name, And drink the passion burning in your frame; To lie at full length, taut, with cheek to cheek, And tease your mouth with kisses till you speak Love words, mad words, dream words, sweet senseless words, Melodious like notes of mating birds; To hear you ask if I shall love always, And myself answer: Till the end of days; To feel your easeful sigh of happiness When on your trembling lips I murmur: Yes; It is so sweet. We know it is not true. What matters it? The night must shed her dew. We know it is not true, but it is sweet— The poem with this music is complete. ~Claude McKay
Courage O lonely heart so timid of approach, Like the shy tropic flower that shuts its lips To the faint touch of tender finger tips: What is your word? What question would you broach? Your lustrous-warm eyes are too sadly kind To mask the meaning of your dreamy tale, Your guarded life too exquisitely frail Against the daggers of my warring mind. There is no part of the unyielding earth, Even bare rocks where the eagles build their nest, Will give us undisturbed and friendly rest. No dewfall softens this vast belt of dearth. But in the socket-chiseled teeth of strife, That gleam in serried files in all the lands, We may join hungry, understanding hands, And drink our share of ardent love and life. -Claude McKay