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Joined: 3/18/2008
Msg: 1789
view profile
DivinityPage 15 of 91    (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41)
^ beautiful... especially love the last image

'dying softly'

drifting away on a cloud
floating effortlessly
into other realms
when our time
is over...

yet always remembering
the blessing
of being
Joined: 1/23/2010
Msg: 1790
Posted: 3/6/2012 2:29:19 PM
WeAre1: You keep a smile on my face. And I thank you for your words of wisdom. And when it is all said and done, we each shall hold on to our memories, else, we never lived.
Joined: 1/23/2010
Msg: 1791
Posted: 3/6/2012 2:29:48 PM
Esoteric Meaning

Look into the mirror, my
Love, peer into the soul
Of divinity, putting to
Waste misconceptions;

For my love is a queen,
Even a militant warrior,
Soaring throughout the
Universe, albeit, paused.

How is motion vibrating
Throughout our spirits?—
Awakening us to hidden
Depth, awaiting our full

Infiltration. Yes, we must
Infiltrate the depth of
Hidden wisdom, careful
Not to misinterpret the

Stirrings of our inner
Beings. We are indeed
Privileged, privileged to
Mystic knowledge, else

What we feel is an ill-
gotten omen deceiving
Our senses, and this
Would prove false,

For divinity is in contact
With divinity, and
Divinity tells no lies;
Thus, trust in the

Promptings of the soul,
Open to the truths
Thereof—and remember,
Love is ever nigh.

Joined: 1/23/2010
Msg: 1792
Posted: 3/7/2012 3:42:07 PM

My dearest treasure-trove,
I am spellbound, musing
Upon the image of a rare
Gem, swooning in the spirit.


My dearest treasure-trove,
A miracle is before my eyes,
Sending my soul to lotus
Land, where I ponder the

Nature of love, such radiant
Love. Are we certain to be
Divided forever!—evermore
Wrestling with the arête!

My dearest treasure-trove,
A mystic nightingale is
Singing to our souls,
Infusing our spirits,

Energizing the essence of
Our beings. Let us listen,
My love, soaking in an
Effusion of mysticism,

Soaring throughout our
Fanes, baptizing our hearts
In the color of love. Indeed,
Hear the whispers of

Eternity, my love. They
Tell a story of heartache
And love, where souls burn
For the forbidden.

Joined: 1/23/2010
Msg: 1794
Posted: 3/7/2012 7:29:35 PM
Sabetha: I thank you for your comments.

Some things travel through us and resonate at the core of our souls, making it difficult to just walk away.

But I hear you.
Joined: 3/18/2008
Msg: 1795
view profile
Posted: 3/8/2012 4:38:51 AM
powerful, j...

....Tell a story of heartache
And love, where souls burn
For the forbidden.

suckling the bitter tea like it's honey
Joined: 1/23/2010
Msg: 1796
Posted: 3/8/2012 4:55:55 PM
I thank you, WeAre1.

Sometimes the bitter becomes sweet, sweet enough to breed wisdom.
Joined: 1/23/2010
Msg: 1797
Posted: 3/9/2012 3:26:46 PM

How often does love
Trickle into the soul?
Has it indeed trickled
Into the spirit? Then
Hold on to love, shattering
False impressions, warring
Against illusions. And this
Is not in my favor, for
Smiles have morphed into
Tears, where I feel a
Sword piercing through
My soul. However, we
Need not worry. This
Has been written, etched
Into the crevices of
Mirrored spirits. And I
Shall continue to compose,
Engaging in poetic therapy,
Excavating the coalmines
Of my soul. And there
She appears, a ghostly
Countenance, kissing me
In the spirit. “Rest my son.”
Indeed I shall. But now is
Not the time. “Yes, my
Son, now is not the time.”
Despite the variations of
Emotional tug and pull,
Shall we traipse through
The forest hand in hand,
Burying a secret deep
Within our hearts?—or
Shall the arête take
Precedence? Either/or, I
Shall ride the waves,
Attempting to capture the
Essence of mystic

Joined: 1/23/2010
Msg: 1798
Posted: 3/9/2012 9:13:44 PM
(Written while drunk)

Adrift II

I love without qualification,
Eager to awaken forgotten

Immortalize our souls in
Portraits, that we shall breathe

Drink from the basin of truth,
My love—indulge ‘til your
Spirit drowns.

The canvas of existence awaits
The touch of mystery, shall we
Touch the canvas of existence?

It’s the battle of the psyche,
Desperate to interpret mystic
Vibrations, where she dwells,

Electrified, proven that I have
Become a beggar of love. How
Do I return to ground zero?

Have I been sipping poison from
A cactus? I am afraid to speak
The truth, but I shall speak the

Truth. Cast me not to the winds
Of sorrow, for love breeds
Devotion, awaiting one with the

Courage to approach love’s
Domain. But indeed, I have been
Drinking from the fountain of

Illusion, scared to confess!

Joined: 1/23/2010
Msg: 1799
Posted: 3/10/2012 2:24:25 PM
AD2006: It is always a pleasure, my friend. This prose-poem captures my attention--great capture on your part. As for drunk or tipsy, maybe I was just tipsy--I'm not certain--but yes indeed, I would hold your hand.
Joined: 1/23/2010
Msg: 1800
Posted: 3/11/2012 2:27:46 PM
Walk with me.
Feel my heartbeat.
It speaks of love.

Sell me a dream,
If only for the moment,
That I may live to die.

Indeed, make love
To my being—
Intoxicate my spirit.

Summons me when
The moon is full—
Romanticize my soul.

Hold me when the
Crucible of existence
Has suffocated my

Heart. Reassure me
That the storm shall
Pass, and I shall do

The same. Indeed,
Become my best friend,
That we may withstand

The whirlwind. Prove
To me that love is not
A myth. Extend my

Knowledge of love—
Become the love of my
Existence. That I may

Muse upon divinity,
Wrapped in divinity,
Spending my life with

Joined: 1/23/2010
Msg: 1801
Soulfelt Love
Posted: 3/12/2012 2:56:32 PM
Pensive, even wistful for
Romance, we journey
Throughout the spirit, in
Search of a rare vibration.

We search by way of the
Wisdom eye, awaiting the
Arrival of our reflection,
That we may love forever.

Joined: 1/23/2010
Msg: 1802
Soulfelt Love
Posted: 3/12/2012 3:39:00 PM
Viola of Spirit

Here’s a bouquet of poems,
My love. Let us listen for
The viola of spirit. Yes, my
Love, remove the mask, that

I may witness the anguish of
Divinity; else, we are subject
To a game of masquerades.
But my dearest aphrodisiac,

Assuredly, we have discarded
Our masks, in honor of rendered
Affections, by way of the spirit.
Yes, my mind’s illumination,

I am hopeful, sipping Moet,
Attempting to peer into the
Future. Some would accuse me
Of committing a sin, merely

For a thought in the direction
Of a lovelock. But have I
Sinned, if prompted by divinity?
Let us investigate our stream.

We wrestle with more than a
Fairytale. Such as plangent
Vibrations attest to this. And
Assuredly, there’s something

Sacred between us, as sacred as
Shiloh. Let us grab arms, my
Love, and shake gently until
We fully awake, for I am eager

To listen closely to the viola
Of spirit.

Joined: 1/23/2010
Msg: 1803
Soulfelt Love
Posted: 3/14/2012 3:19:10 PM
To Decode a Koan

I’m climbing myself, clawing
Concrete, attempting to decode
A koan. Thus, open my eyes,
That I may peer into sacred

Secrets, that I may peer into a
Sacred soul. She is an enigma,
Even unto herself. But am I
Brave enough to reenter the

Cave?—for to reenter the cave
Dredges up old and new demons
—how many have I wrestled,
Unto traumatizing pieces of

Myself. But if I can decode my
Sacred koan, I could then unlock
The widows of her soul, and
Tread thereinto, peering into

Her sacred box. I am thus
Willing to venture back into

The cave—where a red dragon is
Awaiting my arrival. How shall
I again defeat the red dragon?
—for it is wise to my tactics, but

I must prevail, for the sake of my
Sacred koan. I shall thus reenter
The cave, for the spark of my
Wildfire, for the spirit of my heart,

Else, I shall be cast to the weeping
Rock, left there to dwindle away,
As my spirit churns unto
Nothingness and despair.

Joined: 1/23/2010
Msg: 1804
Soulfelt Love
Posted: 3/14/2012 5:59:55 PM
Brown Penny by William Butler Yeats

I whispered, 'I am too young,'
And then, 'I am old enough';
Wherefore I threw a penny
To find out if I might love.
'Go and love, go and love, young man,
If the lady be young and fair.'
Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,
I am looped in the loops of her hair.

O love is the crooked thing,
There is nobody wise enough
To find out all that is in it,
For he would be thinking of love
Till the stars had run away
And the shadows eaten the moon.
Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,
One cannot begin it too soon.
Joined: 1/23/2010
Msg: 1805
Soulfelt Love
Posted: 3/16/2012 1:10:41 PM
AD: Your soul is made of gold and your heart is as warm as a furnace. You have always been kind to me, and I thank you.

Your poem is intricate, but I am able to read into it. This gives it depth.
Joined: 3/18/2008
Msg: 1806
view profile
Soulfelt Love
Posted: 3/20/2012 5:27:20 AM
mmm to alwaysdreaming's poem.
wrote this a couple of days ago, edited now and felt to bring it here...

long enough
to feel
the silent voice
from within
you are love....

in that
Joined: 1/23/2010
Msg: 1807
Soulfelt Love
Posted: 3/20/2012 12:02:34 PM
WeAre1, that was a kind gesture on your part. AD's poem is provocative.
Joined: 1/23/2010
Msg: 1808
Soulfelt Love
Posted: 3/20/2012 1:07:39 PM
Dangerous Woman

There’s something mystique
About her countenance—she’s
A seductive circuit—a magnet
In motion. She’s ever ripe for
Amour, for she’s a sexual
Intoxication. Men vie for her
Affections. She’s a surgeon of
Hearts, emotionally webbing

Joined: 1/23/2010
Msg: 1809
Soulfelt Love
Posted: 3/21/2012 1:48:43 PM
Adrift a Heartbeat

As sweet as a virgin’s love,
With the psaltery of visions
Serenading her soul!

Pass me the harp, my love.
Unto my heart, tiptoe upon
The symbols of music.

Throughout the woods of
My thoughts, I carve images
Of my love in woodblocks.

In silence, we soak in
Stentorian vibrations, reading
Into the waves.

Where is a seamstress?—to
Sew us into a dream. Thereby,
We would drift through the

Floating world.

Wander with me, my love.
Let us haunt down kismet, and
Confess our unyielding love.

Famished for one another’s
Love, let us come together in
The embrace of purity.

Impassion my spirit with mere
Presence. Intoxicate my soul.
Dig into my deeper self…for

My love is an afflatus, moving
Through my being, awakening
My artistic love.

Joined: 1/23/2010
Msg: 1810
Soulfelt Love
Posted: 3/21/2012 2:35:13 PM
More than a Moment

Iridescent hopes
Of a junoesque goddess
Knotting my soul
For I cannot possess

Quixotic over love
Delving into the matrix
Of the spirit, longing
For a colorful dream

This is I, electrically
Charged, weening on
More than a muse, rather
A soulmate

Within my heart, she
Represents par excellence
Ever on point, decorated
In sheer perfection

She is the ambrosia of
Another, watering my
Eyes, but reality is altered
Riving our souls

Where the journey is
Merely to heal, merely to
Love, this pulls me from
Out of the cobwebs

We are drifting upon the
Nocturne, fashioning art,
Wishing upon a relic,
Enlove with the wisdom

Of the gods

Joined: 1/23/2010
Msg: 1811
Mystic Circuit
Posted: 3/22/2012 1:43:48 PM
Mystic Circuit

Melt into the waves, my
Love, hear the symphony
Of joyous voice-prints
They tell a story of amore
Endless amore, ageless

I desire to enter her
Chambers, after a long
Day of amorous flirtation
Where our hearts are
Pulsating to one rhythm
And our loins are burning

Dig into the soils of our
Souls, pull upon the roots
Of Eden, let us again
Partake of hidden wisdom
Feeding light to our
Shadows, bathing in
Luminous waves

They shall immortalize
Our affair in canon
Where for centuries
Young lovers shall read
Into our saga and learn of
The throws of passion
Mimicking such passion

Surely, I dream, weening
Of ways to endear my
Soul to a precious heart
Where reality crushes
Visions, but hopes run
High, where the vibrations
Of spirit touch, agitating
Feelings of amore

Joined: 1/23/2010
Msg: 1812
Mystic Circuit
Posted: 3/25/2012 4:05:40 PM
The New Poetry Handbook
by Mark Strand

1 If a man understands a poem,
he shall have troubles.

2 If a man lives with a poem,
he shall die lonely.

3 If a man lives with two poems,
he shall be unfaithful to one.

4 If a man conceives of a poem,
he shall have one less child.

5 If a man conceives of two poems,
he shall have two children less.

6 If a man wears a crown on his head as he writes,
he shall be found out.

7 If a man wears no crown on his head as he writes,
he shall deceive no one but himself.

8 If a man gets angry at a poem,
he shall be scorned by men.

9 If a man continues to be angry at a poem,
he shall be scorned by women.

10 If a man publicly denounces poetry,
his shoes will fill with urine.

11 If a man gives up poetry for power,
he shall have lots of power.

12 If a man brags about his poems,
he shall be loved by fools.

13 If a man brags about his poems and loves fools,
he shall write no more.

14 If a man craves attention because of his poems,
he shall be like a jackass in moonlight.

15 If a man writes a poem and praises the poem of a fellow,
he shall have a beautiful mistress.

16 If a man writes a poem and praises the poem of a fellow overly,
he shall drive his mistress away.

17 If a man claims the poem of another,
his heart shall double in size.

18 If a man lets his poems go naked,
he shall fear death.

19 If a man fears death,
he shall be saved by his poems.

20 If a man does not fear death,
he may or may not be saved by his poems.

21 If a man finishes a poem,
he shall bathe in the blank wake of his passion
and be kissed by white paper.
Joined: 1/23/2010
Msg: 1813
Mystic Circuit
Posted: 3/29/2012 2:49:00 PM
Escape from Love

From love, how do I stray?—
For love is hard to admire—
For love has sent me astray.

Once consumed, breakaway,
If not tangled, set-afire—
From love, how do I stray?

Here’s a burning bouquet,
For the flames of hellfire,
For love has sent me astray.

Now I yearn for leeway,
Listening to the choir—
From love, how do I stray?

I pray, is there a hideaway?—
For my soul is in the mire—
For love has sent me astray.

Love has cast me away,
Tearing into me as wildfire:
From love, how do I stray?—
For love has sent me astray.

Joined: 1/23/2010
Msg: 1814
Mystic Circuit
Posted: 3/29/2012 3:31:37 PM
The Treasure of Love

A seaquake is rumbling within
The spirit, as I meditate upon
The seven seas of love—absorbing
Undulations, falling into the clouds.

What isn’t the heaviness of love?—
For love is all consuming, awaking
Both the angels of the choir, and
The demons of the psalteries.

Journey through the park with me—
Let us converse of our visions
Together. Let us believe in the
Power of cupid, piercing our hearts.

Indeed, let us tap into the circuit of
Intimacy, reading into the soul-prints
Of lovers, while listening to the
Voiceprints of eternity.

My luminous amore, continue to
Enlighten my shadow—continue to
Elevate my consciousness, for there
Is a trove of treasures in our midst.

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