posted February 20, 2012 11:12 PM            

The aggrieved and the injured say, "Beauty is kind and gentle.
Like a young mother half-shy of her own glory she walks among us."
And the passionate say, "Nay, beauty is a thing of might and dread.
Like the tempest she shakes the earth beneath us and the sky above us."

The tired and the weary say, "Beauty is of soft whisperings. She speaks in our spirit.
Her voice yields to our silences like a faint light that quivers in fear of the shadow."
But the restless say, "We have heard her shouting among the mountains,
And with her cries came the sound of hoofs, and the beating of wings and the roaring of lions."

At night the watchmen of the city say, "Beauty shall rise with the dawn from the east."
And at noontide the toilers and the wayfarers say,
"We have seen her leaning over the earth from the windows of the sunset."

In winter say the snow-bound, "She shall come with the spring leaping upon the hills."
And in the summer heat the reapers say,
"We have seen her dancing with the autumn leaves,
and we saw a drift of snow in her hair."
All these things have you said of beauty,
Yet in truth you spoke not of her but of needs unsatisfied,
And beauty is not a need but an ecstasy.
It is not a mouth thirsting nor an empty hand stretched forth,
But rather a heart enflamed and a soul enchanted.

It is not the image you would see nor the song you would hear,
But rather an image you see though you close your eyes and a song you hear though you shut your ears.
It is not the sap within the furrowed bark, nor a wing attached to a claw,
But rather a garden for ever in bloom and a flock of angels for ever in flight.

People of Orphalese, beauty is life when life unveils her holy face.
But you are life and you are the veil.
Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror.
But you are eternity and you are the mirror."

- Kahlil Gibran, "On Beauty," Chapter 25, The Prophet, 1923

posted February 21, 2012 11:44 AM            

It's the heart, afraid of breaking
That never learns to dance
It's the dream, afraid of waking
That never takes the chance
It's the one who won't be taken
Who cannot seem to give
And the soul, afraid of dying
That never learns to live

When the night has been too lonely
And the road has been too long
And you think that love is only for the lucky and the strong
Just remember in the winter
Far beneath the bitter snow
Lies the seed
That with the sun's love, in the spring
Becomes the rose"

- Amanda McBroom, "The Rose," 1979

posted February 21, 2012 04:52 PM            

The stain of love
Is upon the world.
Yellow, yellow, yellow,
It eats into the leaves,
Smears with saffron
The horned branches that lean
Heavily
Against a smooth purple sky.

There is no light—
Only a honey-thick stain
That drips from leaf to leaf
And limb to limb
Spoiling the colours
Of the whole world.

I am alone.
The weight of love
Has buoyed me up
Till my head
Knocks against the sky.

See me!
My hair is dripping with nectar—
Starlings carry it
On their black wings.
See, at last
My arms and my hands
Are lying idle.

How can I tell
If I shall ever love you again
As I do now?"

posted February 22, 2012 08:38 AM            

Yet, when the apple-blossom opens wide
Under the pallid moonlight’s fingering,
I see your blanched face at my breast, and hide
My eyes from diligent work, malingering.

Ah, then, upon my bedroom I do draw
The blind to hide the garden, where the moon
Enjoys the open blossoms as they straw
Their beauty for his taking, boon for boon.

And I do lift my aching arms to you,
And I do lift my anguished, avid breast,
And I do weep for very pain of you,
And fling myself at the doors of sleep, for rest.

And I do toss through the troubled night for you,
Dreaming your yielded mouth is given to mine,
Feeling your strong breast carry me on into
The peace where sleep is stronger even than wine."

- D.H. Lawrence, "A Love Song"

posted February 22, 2012 08:43 AM            

Nothing mattered or had a name:
The world was made of air, which waited.

I knew rooms full of ashes,
Tunnels where the moon lived,
Rough warehouses that growled 'get lost',
Questions that insisted in the sand.

Everything was empty, dead, mute,
Fallen abandoned, and decayed:
Inconceivably alien, it all

Belonged to someone else - to no one:
Till your beauty and your poverty
Filled the autumn plentiful with gifts."

posted February 22, 2012 08:47 AM            

We were on the heights.
Far beyond, invisible; surfaces, washed;
And glance, more amorous than ever before.
You handed me the green stalk of a message
And your breath quietly cracked
The Terracotta of Familiarity.
Our heartbeats pouring down the rocks
From an old wine, the summer’s sands flowing in veins
And the Moonlight enameling your behavior
You were wonderful free, and down-to-earth.

The Green Fortune of Life mingled
With the cool mountain air.
Shadows returned
And pennyroyals danced
With the breeze
And ecstasies mingled together."

- Sohrab Sepehri, "Over the Eyelids of Night"

posted February 22, 2012 10:48 AM            

quote:

---

Originally posted by mintgirl123:
lilithpluto.

That poem SPOKE to me. I love it. Guessing you're thinking about your ex? How long has it been?
For one of mine, it took me 17 months to get rid of that cloak of sadness. It was really tough. =(

---

Yeah... I guess 5 months? One can easily forget an ungrateful cad, heartless creep, brainless cow or irresponsible pig. He was none of those... so that makes it so difficult.

posted February 22, 2012 10:57 AM            

quote:

---

Originally posted by YoursTrulyAlways:

It's the heart, afraid of breaking
That never learns to dance
It's the dream, afraid of waking
That never takes the chance
It's the one who won't be taken
Who cannot seem to give
And the soul, afraid of dying
That never learns to live

- Amanda McBroom, "The Rose," 1979

---

posted February 22, 2012 12:09 PM            

quote:

---

Originally posted by lilithpluto:
Awwwwww Ian, I love all of them!!

Your making me fall in love with you.. luckily you are not in Singapore! The guys I know dun read poems no more... they only bring you to fanciful restaurants. Romance is as dead. Maybe its me, I attract guys that are workaholics..:P

---

Err... my dad is a PhD from Oxford in this stuff. He taught at NUS. I got indoctrinated early :P

Remember that I'm American educated, so I was forced into the liberal arts as well (literature, philosophy, history, etc.) despite my career in banking. Contrast this with a British education that is primarily profesionally based (read law in university and you study law only). You can't expect a British/NUS educated physician to know poetry. They don't teach poetry at the university level or even the high school and middle school level to engineers, architects, scientists or computer scientists.

I remember previously discussing not being in Singapore... I told you that the synastry compatibility is dangerous... see how its playing out? Its good you are over there and I am over here.

You already have high standards, I'm not pushing the bar upwards, just that I'm able to meet your expectations. Go out there and force other guys to these standards and don't compromise!

Its a culture of workaholics. What do you expect? The pressure to succeed is high. Of course, the guys have to know where the priorities lie, and therefore I do force myself to stop working when I've attained performance benchmarks.

posted February 22, 2012 01:33 PM            

quote:

---

Originally posted by lilithpluto:
If I am to take the plunge, will anyone be there to catch me? I'm not afraid of dying; but that he never cared.. that's more frightening in my mind.

---

posted February 22, 2012 03:17 PM            

My mouth is upon your pillow

Both faces of the walls come meeting
My voice discovering you

I speak to you of eternity

O cities memories of cities
Cities wrapped in our desires
Cities come early cities come lately
Cities strong and cities secret
Plundered of their master's builders
All their thinkers all their ghosts

Fields pattern of emerald
Bright living surviving
The harvest of the sky over our earth
Feeds my voice I dream and weep
I laugh and dream among the flames
Among the clusters of the sun

And over my body your body spreads
The sheet of it's bright mirror."

- Paul Eluard, "The Absence"

posted February 22, 2012 03:23 PM            

The sky, it is deserted
for the moon falls to the sea.
But I, the one who holds you,
I am not alone !

The world, it is deserted.
All flesh is sad you see.
But I, the one who hugs you,
I am not alone!"

posted February 22, 2012 03:26 PM            

- Dante Alighieri, "La Vita Nuova," 1295 [translated from Italian]

posted February 22, 2012 03:36 PM            

Quiero mirarme en tus ojos,
Tenerte muy cerca, verte junto a mi.
Piensa que tal vez mañana
Yo ya estare lejos,
Muy lejos de aqui.

Besame, besame mucho,
Como si fuera esta noche la ultima vez.
Besame, besame mucho,
Que tengo miedo perderte, perderte despues"

- Consuelo Velázquez, 1941

posted February 22, 2012 07:26 PM            

quote:

---

Originally posted by lilithpluto:
Yeah... I guess 5 months? One can easily forget an ungrateful cad, heartless creep, brainless cow or irresponsible pig. He was none of those... so that makes it so difficult.

Oh well, time is the only enemy here.

---

lol my ex wasn't a good guy at all. =( It's like I know he's a bad person, and doesn't have any redeeming qualities, but back then when I was still hung up over him, it was like the heart completely took over lol. But thank god I'm over all that crap.