5
   

Poetry of Love

 
 
Miller
 
Reply Mon 18 Oct, 2010 08:35 am
He Wishes For The Cloths Of Heaven

HAD I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

William Butler Yeats

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Type: Discussion • Score: 5 • Views: 6,297 • Replies: 97
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Fido
 
  1  
Reply Mon 18 Oct, 2010 09:10 am
@Miller,
Lord of Gods
Give me a lie
to help me catch my wonder lover's eyes
to amaze her soul with sweet surprise
and tie her helpless in her rest
powerless to resist every kiss
I try and every touch I ply
to bring her yeilding flesh alive
and give to me the pleasures of her scent
Put her tastes upon my tongue
and her breasts between my lips
and my love within her heart
just for a start
and for her will I all other Gods forsake
and demand that they evacuate
as I lie sated in her arms
enthralled by charms...
Fido
 
  0  
Reply Mon 18 Oct, 2010 05:10 pm
@Fido,
can any one fix my spelling... I only had fifteen minutes to write that thing, and maybe stole a half hour from life to spit it out... Certainly one of you "Poets" can do better...
0 Replies
 
edgarblythe
 
  1  
Reply Mon 18 Oct, 2010 06:45 pm
@Fido,
I found it. Entertaining read fido.
Fido
 
  1  
Reply Mon 18 Oct, 2010 09:05 pm
@edgarblythe,
edgarblythe wrote:

I found it. Entertaining read fido.

No constipated gen-i-us here..
0 Replies
 
Miller
 
  1  
Reply Tue 19 Oct, 2010 07:45 am
“Who so loves, believes the impossible.”
Elizabeth Barrett Browning

I was led into love with an eager palm,
full of life and vigour and youth.
I was shunted from love with the back of the hand,
careless, selfish and uncouth.

The winds do moan as the trees howl from their roots
and the days grow cold, as the nights grow fierce
with the remembrance of the lover’s previous hold
and the bittersweet tear for the wisdom untold.

I have lived a thousand years of the groans of the women before,
who’s lovers, like mine, were men and boys too foolish to see
that the one they hurt is themselves eventually and not me.
No, not me.

I was led down the rutted road to believing the impossible.
Do not dare to dash my dreams that it may still be true.
Hush, young man, and draw near.
You’re not the one but as comfort you’ll do.
So hush, young man, and draw near.

0 Replies
 
Miller
 
  1  
Reply Wed 20 Oct, 2010 08:30 am
She walks in Beauty

SHE walks 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 mellow'd to that tender light 5
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impair'd the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face; 10
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow, 15
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!

Lord Byron
Fido
 
  1  
Reply Thu 21 Oct, 2010 08:23 pm
@Miller,
The sea is glass
as smooth as glass
as fine and smooth
as your sweet ass
and the sky is blushed
with the evening's hush
and I blush with the touch
of you my crime
and the breeze is gentle with a scent
What secent so heaven sent
what smell with such attraction sends
me measured moments to my end
and dew in settling makes us chill
as though our chill were common will
to make us snuggle close and cuddle
and make our separate being one...
0 Replies
 
Miller
 
  1  
Reply Fri 22 Oct, 2010 07:03 am
Take, O Take

TAKE, O take those lips away
That so sweetly were forsworn,
And those eyes, the break of day,
Lights that do mislead the morn:
But my kisses bring again,
Bring again—
Seals of love, but seal’d in vain,
Seal’d in vain!

William Shakespeare
0 Replies
 
Miller
 
  1  
Reply Sat 23 Oct, 2010 03:45 am
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou growest:
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this and this gives life to thee

William Shakespeare
Fido
 
  1  
Reply Sat 23 Oct, 2010 06:35 am
@Miller,
How can I say Me, Myself, and I
while you still own my world
My being is cast in shadow
My meaning is all hallowed
by the touch of my living god
my one to true love
my life taken up by an other form

Some call it love
and what the common currency of words
cannot buy we would define
but I would not describe
while I could sculpt you with my touch
while I could trace your limits with my finger tips
while I could with skin lust skin
with tongue could taste you
and lips embrace you
and eyes adore you

If I could fill your life
as you fill mine
If I could charm you with my gravity
and draw you in
If I could make you mine as I am yours
If you were devoted and I adored
No cruel master would I be
but I would live to set you free
I would have you give as give I
freely given, given freedom
given eternity and life

May I tell you of your kiss?
No sight ever lit upon a flower with such bliss
as your kiss upon my lips
And reason denies you
for no logic can comprehend
How much can pain be exorcised
from demon life and cruel lies
by such beauty as your eyes
And I am lost

where am I
where ever will I be
where you won't own me
where you with magic won't possess
where your address won't by my own
and where you are won't find me home
for one must be to be alone
and I am no one
not some one
not any one
without the love
that makes me real
with you dear god
and the Love I dare to feel...
0 Replies
 
Miller
 
  1  
Reply Sat 23 Oct, 2010 09:48 am
WHEN WE TWO PARTED

by: George Gordon (Lord) Byron (1788-1824)

HEN we two parted
In silence and tears,
Half broken-hearted
To sever for years,
Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
Colder thy kiss;
Truly that hour foretold
Sorrow to this.

The dew of the morning
Sunk chill on my brow--
It felt like the warning
Of what I feel now.
Thy vows are all broken,
And light is thy fame:
I hear thy name spoken,
And share in its shame.

They name thee before me,
A knell to mine ear;
A shudder comes o'er me--
Why wert thou so dear?
They know not I knew thee,
Who knew thee too well:
Lond, long shall I rue thee,
Too deeply to tell.

I secret we met--
I silence I grieve,
That thy heart could forget,
Thy spirit deceive.
If I should meet thee
After long years,
How should I greet thee?
With silence and tears.

Fido
 
  1  
Reply Sat 23 Oct, 2010 11:06 am
@Miller,
You want the dog to go toe to toe with Byron??? I'll drag another one hour special out of my consciousness for you... And then, whatz for lunch???

Be for by in the fifth verse.
0 Replies
 
Miller
 
  1  
Reply Sat 23 Oct, 2010 04:21 pm
Shall I compare thee to a summers day
Sonnet 18
William Shakespeare

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date.
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course untrimmed.
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st;
Nor shall death brag thou wand'rest in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st,
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
Fido
 
  1  
Reply Thu 28 Oct, 2010 10:02 pm
@Miller,
My world is round
My world is around me
And morning is her glory
and her turning is the dawning of desire

She offers her shoulder to the blaze
The moon sets in the streaming rays
no art so playful pays the rent
nor rests so decadent and spent
and I would trace her with my eyes
and memorize my prize

I find my lost horizon in her skin
The shadows cast within
her curves the rolling landscape
her shading shelters of escape
And I wish that I may kiss her so I shall
And I dream that I may touch her as she swells
like the ocean waves and prairie
That she may keep me safe and carry
my liberal life to pain and promise
and give me light to face another day....
0 Replies
 
NoOne phil
 
  1  
Reply Sat 30 Oct, 2010 09:46 am
@Miller,
PolyMath

Weep the Willowing Whisper Walks
A near felled pretty.
But can she take the dripple drop
Of puff'd up ocean me?
Hand me stick
Dear talking cane
And glossy boots not dry,
Weep the Willowing Whisper Walks
Beside her so may I.
_________

Visual image provided by a Monet.
0 Replies
 
Miller
 
  1  
Reply Mon 1 Nov, 2010 09:25 am
The Rose in the Deeps of His Heart

All things uncomely and broken,
all things worn-out and old,
The cry of a child by the roadway,
the creak of a lumbering cart,

The heavy steps of the ploughman,
splashing the wintry mould,
Are wronging your image that blossoms
a rose in the deeps of my heart.

The wrong of unshapely things
is a wrong too great to be told;
I hunger to build them anew
and sit on a green knoll apart,

With the earth and the sky and the water,
remade, like a casket of gold
For my dreams of your image that blossoms
a rose in the deeps of my heart.

- William Butler Yeats
0 Replies
 
Miller
 
  1  
Reply Mon 1 Nov, 2010 09:44 am
When the Shy Star Goes Forth in Heaven

When the shy star goes forth in heaven
All maidenly, disconsolate,
Hear you amid the drowsy even
One who is singing by your gate.
His song is softer than the dew
And he is come to visit you.

O bend no more in revery
When he at eventide is calling.
Nor muse: Who may this singer be
Whose song about my heart is falling?
Know you by this, the lover's chant,
'Tis I that am your visitant.

James Joyce



0 Replies
 
Miller
 
  1  
Reply Sat 13 Nov, 2010 02:11 pm
The Garden of Love

I went to the Garden of Love,
And saw what I never had seen;
A Chapel was built in the midst,
Where I used to play on the green.

And the gates of this Chapel were shut
And "Thou shalt not," writ over the door;
So I turned to the Garden of Love
That so many sweet flowers bore.

And I saw it was filled with graves,
And tombstones where flowers should be;
And priests in black gowns were walking their rounds,
And binding with briars my joys and desires.

William Blake
Fido
 
  1  
Reply Sat 13 Nov, 2010 08:17 pm
@Miller,
Turn out the lights
Let me see you with my hands
let me know you with my fingers
help me to understand

Why was such bueauty made
What luck passed me your way
Why did you ever let me stay
When I was so alone

The morning waits beyond my sleep
Without my sleep no morning comes
The morning comes with blinding light
Let me see without my sight

Turn out the lights and let me love
fit my fingers like a glove
Be the dream I'm dreaming of
And share your love with me

Such skin not weaved with silken thread
No Godess glowing gilt with gold
No sparking rivlets like your eyes
and charms for honor left untold

Can you own me
Stay alone with me
Give to me and always be
the morning to my night

For love of nothing and no other
To give my all to you and more
To make no bargain for fair exchange
but trade devotion for I adore
0 Replies
 
 

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