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| | Of LovePage 82 of 86 (46, 47, 48, 49, 50, 51, 52, 53, 54, 55, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60, 61, 62, 63, 64, 65, 66, 67, 68, 69, 70, 71, 72, 73, 74, 75, 76, 77, 78, 79, 80, 81, 82, 83, 84, 85, 86) | “Ebony”
It is not in daylight, sunny skies so clear Pasted smiles, squelched memories dear Apple blossoms, springtime suburban delight Little One read to, nursery rhyme smile bright
Cherished ‘Kitty’, daughter aged of not yet one Discovering little wheels, freely having fun Working in the cellar, focused there at task Cursed cacophony, in moonlight now bask
When shrouds silent, envelop sleep in bed Night Mare revisits, galloping in head Awakened always, urgent, tasted mouth chalk Polished boots shone glimmer, stones upon walk
Stabled restless, ‘Ebony’, night coloured mare Soft velvet is Her muzzle, stroked gentle care Saddle gentle placed, then gentle cinched Mounted the Night Mare, rider subtle winced
Moonlight plays upon her mane, flowing gathered speed Relentless timeless journey, insatiable each in other feed Galloping headlong, cross brooks on fleeted wing ‘Ebony’, Night Mare, fleet footed, desire bring
One becomes Mare an’ rider, destined called in haste Perspiration anxious, not a moment to waste Foliage passes by, speeded moonlit wake Basked in the moonlight, hope never forsake
Her hooves pounding, gentle rhythm thud Thoughts overwhelm, that of life blood Racing now, hearts pumping, earnest focus quest Her silken mane flowing, speed attained One best
Towered in the distance, seen in cellar moor Lighted is the doorway, an’ a concrete floor With haste ‘Ebony’ spurned onward! Galloping hooves steeled forward!
Cacophony of stairways, cold, held stone ‘Kitty’ embraced, silent, quiet, alone No tears fell, from that sweet child grace Night Mares ridden, in nocturnal face
‘Ebony’ is night mare, visits subtle nights Relentless, pounding hoofbeats, sanity fights Dreams heroic reached in, chased in folklore Cursed the rider, didn’t shut the fvcking cellar door. | |
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| 5 post rule & POF gatekeepers. Posted: 5/20/2012 3:01:12 PM | Not written poetry for a while, although I have a small collection, they not all about love. So...here are a couple I just wrote. Hope they are ok.
The limits of my mind will never surpass the love in my heart
I miss the walks, the talks, the dreams, the smiles, I miss watching the stars knowing someone is beside me, I miss the touch of hands, the warmth of a lovers soul, I miss sharing my heart and giving my love.
Through all I crave and all I want. I miss the thought of you. Although right now you are but a dream, I prey my soul will bring you to me.
The stars at night are so beautiful, Hold my hand and watch the shine. When I see a shooting star, My wish is for you.
I want my dreams, I want my heart, For you are in both, Never to part. | |
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| Of Love Posted: 5/21/2012 12:58:11 PM | WeAre1: You have revealed a deep mystery. Hopefully, it doesn’t still weigh you down. As for being a dreamer, that’s what we are. You hit the nail on the head. I thank you for the new perspective.
teeantee: A lot of effort went into this. I wish I could lay eyes on Ebony—a fine mare indeed. Albeit, the surface speaks of a mare, the poem appears to have a twofold meaning. Nonetheless, it’s a great capture.
Silverdr: Welcome to the thread. Your poem is capturing. It definitely fits here. I thank you for posting it here. | |
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| Of Love Posted: 5/23/2012 12:11:03 PM | A Broken Dream
Drifting through a river of Dreams, reminiscing on a Love made precious, but Absent from the arms of Would be lovers—what Became of such precious Dreams?
As if through the eyes of Innocence, all became Florescent, a puzzle that Fell into place—in the Hearts of dreamers, but Reality is a cruel prankster Revealing what never was.
If only their first encounter Was ignescent—love upon Love—sight upon sight. Destiny would have been Shook—such a spark Would have awakened fate Effacing doubt.
But the sanctuary of the Soul was closed, offlimits From prying souls. What Would have been the ante? Would all hell had broken Loose? If only a dream Was more than a dream— More the symbol of Eternity. They would then Be one, reminiscing on Love made precious Opposed to guarding their Hearts from phantoms. | |
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| Of Love Posted: 5/23/2012 12:48:14 PM | Mystery of my Dreams
Tease me, my love. Excite my Passions. Step out of my dreams And ravish my soul, for I’m Ripe for love, drifting upon Clouds.
Let us disappear together Lost in one another’s arms Running into the future, leaving Our past woes to the winds— Let our judgments remain pure.
Look into me, my love—peer Into the mystery. It has always Been us, weeping in the Bitterness of our souls, longing To become one.
Here I am, my love. Let us pine No longer. Let us exit the Wilderness of fruitless affairs For our symphony is raging in Our spirits.
Fairest beauty of them all, let Me prove that majesty is near. Let us embark upon a love Surreal. Take one last chance My love;
For love is ours for keeps, if we Only dare to listen to our hearts. Listen, my love. Our spirits are Filled with poetry. We have been Here before, my love. | |
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| Of Love Posted: 5/24/2012 11:27:20 AM | Haunted
Come into the temple, my love Let us sanctify our union in Midst the heavenly quarters Let us touch the soul of Christ.
And I awoke in a cold sweat Running through mirrors only To return to myself, scathed And injured within the spirit.
Daymares, even nightmares Have encompassed me, where I Am in need of a sacred contract For I have leaped off the cliff.
It wasn’t my intention to perish In her soul, but the colors drew Me in, wherefore, I lost track of The depth, sinking into her river.
I fell enlove with a reflection Similar to my own, where the Mystery had the countenance of Holy sadness, pulling me inward.
I blushed at the forbidden Drinking from the wellspring of Desire, pining for what I could Never be, bonded in the spirit.
I here repent for my transgression Falling upon humble knees Staring deep into myself, weeping In the spirit of contrition. | |
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| Of Love Posted: 5/24/2012 11:27:51 AM | Lies for love
Love me through the madness Where I drift through blue skies Falling rapidly into the face of God, repenting for my trespasses.
My ambivalent amore, let us Shower in the agony of love Careful to disguise our pain, for Fear of heartfelt rejection.
Yes, if you must, hide from me My love, in the midst of making Love, where I question affection And you answer with lies.
Nevertheless, love me in the Bitterness of soul, and I shall lie To witness you smile, gleeful and Alive, shining in honor of pain.
Walk into my spirit, pluck the Thorns therein, roll the briers to The far north, and sketch an image Of love in the passion of tomorrow. Shall we be here, my love? Shall we Survive the future, my languishing Star?—for a splinter has punctured Our fortress—I’m eager to fathom.
Depression is coming. But we did Good keeping it at bay. So many Laughs. Such soulfelt smiles. It was Us the whole time, despite the lies. | |
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| Of Love Posted: 5/30/2012 1:49:41 PM | Uncertain Love
An effusion of love has ushered Forth, but where is my rose to Flower? She is cuddled insecurely In her lover’s arms.
Breathe upon me, my precious Love. Infuse me by way of a Tender touch, for I must awaken.
Such heartfelt affairs are alogical For they reach into the soul; and Albeit, my muse if drifting upon A stream, absent to the world, I Presently feel the beat of her heart.
Pulsate through my system, my Love, for life is unto soreness Without the vibration of, my love.
Must I disabuse my thoughts, and Forcibly deceive my heart, for love Is present—hesitant, adrift the Winds; thus, love me, my love, Prior to the spirit falling apart. My adorable heartbeat, permit our Love to crystallize, despite, unsaid Obligation to a hopeless soul.
Have I intruded, my love?—for My spirit aches, to witness my Amore writhing inside, shedding Tears along the seashore.
But I shall drift into the shadows My love. Where love shall shine Brightly, waiting for what may Never come. | |
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| Ethics and Supressed Desires...Feel free to Express Posted: 6/16/2012 3:18:48 PM | ^^^I'll try harder next time. And I thank you for your feedback. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- When a Man loves a Woman
He disappears in her dreamy Eyes, nurturing her holy soul Set to sacrifice his godly spirit To ensure her heavenly smile.
Indeed, when a man loves a Woman, he can barely see her Lost in the horizon, gazing into A fairytale, to catch a glimpse.
She is all of what he shall Never see, hiding in the forest Of dreams, touching his vague Heart, pulsating in waves.
He cries when her ways are Aloof, adrift in wonder, peering Into a maze, unaware of what The sunset may bring.
Indeed, when a man loves a Woman, his passions surface From the sea of his being—he Gives them in pledge of
Eternity, a wilderness roaming The thoughts of mankind. | |
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| Ethics and Supressed Desires...Feel free to Express Posted: 6/17/2012 8:08:26 AM | Makes perfect sense to me, too. It's all a matter of perspective I suppose..
When a woman loves a man she wants to nurture him like a mother should...
to hold him when he is overwhelmed, to stay at arms length when he needs to be...
allowing room for breath but assuring "I am still there when you need me."
When a woman loves a man it is for eternity... even when he is out of sight and all that is left is a memory.
"Happy Father's Day" | |
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| Ethics and Supressed Desires...Feel free to Express Posted: 6/25/2012 6:03:36 PM |
when a woman loves a man she wants to kill him ten times a day or more if possible
Well there ya have it! that says it all!!
Um... just whisperin' there for yer respectful consideration...
well, maybe the man just didn't want to be killed.... | |
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| Ethics and Supressed Desires...Feel free to Express Posted: 6/25/2012 6:36:30 PM | "ethics and suppressed desires.....feel free to express"
hmmm.... is it ethical not to express if desires are suppressed? if there's no desire, is it ethical not to say? what is more honest? kind withdrawal or free expression? if one knows one's truth is it necessary to share it? which is more kind? sharing with sensitivity perhaps is best or just run away free and easy to where the pixies and fairies hang out with elves and magic | |
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| Ethics and Supressed Desires...Feel free to Express Posted: 6/26/2012 10:43:42 PM |
if one knows one's truth is it necessary to share it? which is more kind? sharing with sensitivity perhaps is best or just run away free and easy to where the pixies and fairies hang out with elves and magic
Yes, it is necesarry to share One's truth. Kindness is irrelevant, if attacked. It is a choice, yet a challenge. Pixies fly, freely, magical butterflies Sheep graze content on pastures green....
Would, or should that be risked? Little ones, or fed sweet false sugar? May I ask , please: is it best to teach young? or let young teach?
It's simple. Taught are young old Old are taught young it is wisdom however that embraces young old renew. | |
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| Ethics and Supressed Desires...Feel free to Express Posted: 6/27/2012 6:14:25 AM | one persons truth can be another's prison so is omission a lie when used to protect innocence of another content in not obtaining this damaging knowledge?
sometime the truth only sets us free (Chaucer had it partly right) | |
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| To Touch Deeper Posted: 7/13/2012 3:26:08 PM | her eyes are gentle upon my flesh but our nights are without vision divination has become darkness we are the sin of Jerusalem
kiss me softly, love excite my heart, Morningstar for the moon has dimed the skies wherefore, brimstone is falling
but I will love my precious light until the sun devours earth and spirit returns to spirit upon the pillar of billows | |
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| To Touch Deeper Posted: 8/22/2012 2:36:26 PM | Dear Mystery
quiet my aching spirit with your love. Kiss me deeply. Resurrect my soul. the fragrance of your skin is the essence of heaven. But how do I authenticate my claim? Beckon me into the vineyards of your heart, where we would love freely, albeit, we have freely hidden from the depth of said love. but let us pitch a tent together: nibble upon grapes together, lost in the woes of poetry, sipping from the vat of enchantment, praying silently for one another’s soul. tend to our garden, my love—for wildflowers lurk in the shadows. indeed, my rose sprouted from concrete, awakening spirits, a solid pillar of the harvest. my fair beauty, shadowed by the presence of sadness, who sees you my love?—dangling, nay, mastering the tightrope. you may fall into my arms and cast your burdens upon my shoulders. beloved of poetry’s soul, stir within us a fortress. let us dwell therein, safe from the hand of tragic tales. indeed, in the secret places, my love dwells, a treasure to behold giving strength to the weary, casting light upon the darkest corners. | |
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| Of Love Posted: 8/23/2012 2:21:42 AM | 'uncertain love'
This one thrums for me reaches to pull the vibration of threads true the feel of the poem works through my soul the tale to weave and feel and find criticism comes from not feeling the threads. | |
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| Of Love Posted: 8/23/2012 3:03:59 PM | Hi running_water. I enjoyed the read. -------------------------------------------------
a titillating touch to sooth a wailing silence, albeit, his countenance is covered in thorns.
peer into his passions. become his water, as he journeys through the desert dreaming in the blind; for
she is more than a woman suffocating in the dark afraid to turn on the lights for fear she may fail. she is a maestro, even a ballad, sung in the mountains, unsung in the city.
both are wide awake in their tears, smiling ere the crowd, headed for the masquerade.
and their love is so divided sinking into the rivers of the soul, wherefore, the days are artless. | |
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| Of Love Posted: 10/15/2012 3:46:15 PM | where is her identity?— wrapted in the arms of her lover, falsely secure for the winter, until his eyes grow weary of the familiar
let her Ba speak of dreams deferred, postponed on behalf of her lover, as he takes refuge in the night though the sun shines in her glory
romance has captured our footprints within the garden, where our tears have watered the lilies we are therefore fruitful in our pains
where is her identity?— it is at the mercy of literature, suffocating between the lines tortured in the summer winds
but the birth of strength writhing in the political sphere, hast sprouted a stem, which lay drenched in newness—the newness of hopes
where is such hope to dwell? Hopefully within the temples of vision where Spirit gives birth to motion—the guidance of a nation | |
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| Of Love Posted: 10/15/2012 4:54:39 PM | her fragrance is that of eternity, and her soul dwells within the songs of songs
spirit of my spirit, what hast time to give?— especially to one drenched in the passion of electric streams
our souls have seeped into our imagination severing our personality challenging our heartbeats what hast time to give?
let fate unveil and alert to the seasons that love has come to its end however, alert to its resurrection
my mind, arrested in the woods, captured by tacit beauty, wailing to the psaltery of my future
it’s the poetry of existence echoing the core of our destiny, where a bruised leaf serves as our spirits
in place of such tenderness dwells a solemn secret the source of Yahweh’s eyes, written upon sacred papyrus
the charge of something more is upon our souls but hidden in the forest of worry, where one soon gets lost in charades | |
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| Of Love Posted: 10/18/2012 3:07:31 PM | angelic, my fervent passion kiss me softly, pierce the winter’s heart—cause me to ponder aside cupid’s arrow
in love’s essence, a storm races through my members I am affected, staring into glowing stars
what has become of us— wrestling with dragons walking freely into the flames, despite the injuries born in our spirits
authenticity was first a dream to us, an impulse of the soul, lost in vacant eyes, afflicted with hurt— who would understand?
and there fate appeared poking us in the belly we felt the surge, waves pulsating through our hearts
proximity became painful to be responsible for wounded spirits, while night sits on its stool, casting spells upon the Morning Star
would that our vision remain fresh, sparkling in our hearts awakening us in burning degrees, for eternity is nigh else we ponder alone conversing with the moon wondering of the presence of love | |
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