Day: August 1, 2015

Later than love

garden 2Our music is a late Beethoven string quartet.
Although I can’t see you,I know
You are listening; the arcitecture of my heart
Is structured round this form
alone.I sit here dreaming,hearing the bows
as they most tenderly cause vibrations
sending the song of love through the air;
as also do the strong yet gentle bells ringing
on the collars of goats on a far away mountain.
I know it’s your music; I heard it
when I first looked into your Pyrenean eyes
and knew who you might be.
A pebble is tossed languidly into a lake
yet ripples spread out across the world.
Such deliverances as we find will only
link us further,as we dance,the elegant dance
of the knowingly brave
who never give in,
but will always keep in step with the world
as it turns around and whirls past flashing silver stars
until its time has come.
Yet the music we create remains for ever
floating through the air,
like perfume of these late roses
as I walk down the garden
into the intolerable green newness of this tangled wood,
which startles me with its violent wistfulness.
Oh,come now…I hear your footstep on the road.
It’s the wind sighing eloquently,
knowing you have gone away
into the dark and the deep.where new life is formed
and I wait for you,fierce yet kind, with tender love.
I offer my heart to the world
and this music takes me.

When you are lost,

When you are far,
so
far
away,
The longest night,
The shortest winter day,
will be places where
I
might die.
The heart’s interior
no-one else
Can view.
When you are lost,
I cannot find
your face…
Its outline on the pillows,
My fingers shaped to trace…
The new design,
the stellar rhyme,
Where have you gone?
You slipped from out my arms.
You slipped away.
Was night or day
Ever cut by such a narrow line?
In your embrace I lay.
You seemed so strong.
Yet,sighing, took the path away.
I can’t see where
Is
it
night?
Or is it
day..?
I tried to write
to bring fresh light,
It’s dark, and still.
I long for you to come.
Oh,will we ever quite
Find out our way?
Or is that pure illusion?
As we stagger through
the wandering furrows
in the fields
They shoot us down.
What is this dark confusion?
The war goes on
The world goes round
The mirror gapes at each new clown.
But in a crack, a seed may grow..
I can’t see you,
But yet we know

I cannot find your face

When you are far,
so
far
away,
The longest night,
The shortest winter day,
will be places where
I
might die.
The heart’s interior
no-one else
Can view.
When you are lost,
I cannot find
your face…
Its outline on the pillows,
My fingers shaped to trace…
The new design,
the stellar rhyme,
Where have you gone?
You slipped from out my arms.
You slipped away.
Was night or day
Ever cut by such a narrow line?
In your embrace I lay.
You seemed so strong.
Yet,sighing, took the path away.
I can’t see where
Is
it
night?
Or is it
day..?
I tried to write
to bring white light,
It’s dark, and still.
I long for you to come.
Oh,will we ever quite
Find out our way?
Or is that pure illusion?
As we stagger through
the wandering furrows
in the fields
They shoot us down.
What is this confusion?
The war goes on
The world goes round
The mirror gapes at each new clown.
But in a crack, a seed may grow..
I can’t see you,
But yet,it’s so.
.

Only the rose

You know there's that little place in the inner wrist

where it's so soft and tender?

Where I need your touch;

Where I touch you

Wrist to wrist,no-one will notice;

But we notice,

I feel your pulse beating,

Or is it mine?

Take the rose,

Take the rose for your table.

And when you see it

Remember,

Remember everything

What we said,

What we never said but implied,

And only the rose will listen

As you sing your song

The rose will be there

In the heart's garden

Dreaming,

Dreaming us back into being.

As we fade gently away

With evening time

When true love’s gone:my most read poem

When true love’s gone and doom hangs overhead

When life runs as a river to the sea...
Then shall I take new lovers to my bed?

And with their carnal touch consoled be?

When my love lies,so breaks my tender heart.

When life seems grey and rocks bestrew my path.

Then,shall I my life of evil start;

And on the world shall I bestow my wrath?

When true love lies and wrecks all loyalty.

When puzzlement makes all the world seem mad.

Then I shall upend causality

And let myself do deeds which make me glad.

For I have love’s sweet child inside my soul

And I shall tend her till at last she’s whole

Note:when I was writing this,I meant it  to be vengeful but I could not write it;something inside me would not permit  it... so I began to write differently.I decided not to vent my wrath on other people or animals or any living thing but instead to do good works if possible