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 AUTHOR
 NaiveAndWitty
Joined: 1/23/2010
Msg: 1903
Of course..Page 19 of 91    (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, 42, 43, 44, 45)
^^^thanxz for dropping by, and thanxz for the read.
 NaiveAndWitty
Joined: 1/23/2010
Msg: 1904
Of Love
Posted: 11/1/2012 3:14:34 PM
Life’s Poetry

Her presence is majestic
Something otherworldly
Permeating my psyche
Leaving me to wonder.

She’s a titillating sylph
Absent to the world
Drifting through fantasy
Lost in life’s poetry.

I ponder upon a moment
Where her maze opens
And I enter her riddle
A part of a lover’s world.

But the stars have yet to
Radiate in our honor. To
Her reality I am a mystery
Wrapped in energy.

Thus, I ponder from afar
Trespassing human scars
Lost in life’s poetry, barely
Present unto myself.

I walk the contour of the
Sea, daydreaming unto
God, silently making
Supplication for my joys;

For my joy is the majesty
Of her presence, where I
Sink into palatial mirrors
Reflections unto my soul.

Summer rain is falling unto
Romance moves the spirit.
Life’s poetry is upon us.
In stillness, we absorb waves.
 strawberryrippleicecream
Joined: 10/29/2012
Msg: 1905
Ethics~Desires~Expression.
Posted: 11/2/2012 8:37:00 PM
wonderous are the forever strides, of a mountain, and a seed, seems like man's greatest desire,
is to forge a path of sweet success,
and damage a woman for bearing his soul,
from dawn to dusk, the path is clear,
near or far, im certainly not there,
If you have a girth that encoumpases her soul,
dont allow him to destroy you, as he surely will follow,
I do not permit such rude undertaking,
and will never sacrifice my heart or soul , for a man who offers nothing,
break the girth and forge the mantel, that states the way to hell reincarnated.
 NaiveAndWitty
Joined: 1/23/2010
Msg: 1906
Ethics~Desires~Expression.
Posted: 11/4/2012 10:06:20 AM
^^^^I thank you for stopping by and leaving such a lovely prose-poem.
 NaiveAndWitty
Joined: 1/23/2010
Msg: 1907
Ethics~Desires~Expression.
Posted: 11/15/2012 9:52:45 PM
I searched for her in the
cafeteria, sitting upon a
plastic chair, sipping coffee
from a straw

I searched for her in the
clouds, emptying my passions
in the rain reflected in my
eyes

there she stands at the far
end of the mountain, cursing
the mystery of this maze
drawing nigh the city

I follow, choking from the
fumes, writing poetry upon
napkins, prepared to vow the
depth of myself

she stares into me with sudden
velocity, I fall, befriending
the concrete, as she appears
to approach my fervor

we held hands in the storm
such a precious moment
fraught with insecurities
where the sun suffers

in a panic she runs towards
the sea, I chase, soul-fraught
in my anguish, watching as
she swims moonward

I returned to the cafeteria
drenched in confusion, to
witness my heart flee
when shall she return
 NaiveAndWitty
Joined: 1/23/2010
Msg: 1908
Expression
Posted: 11/19/2012 2:40:12 PM
love for which the heart
burns, have we lost our
smiles?—drifting in the
winds, pining for lost
moments

into the vacancies of self
I contend for majesty
lost in a whirlpool of
mistakes

how I have stared into
fiction, aware of my folly
pondering the mountain’s
cry

I have hidden my emotions
in a sacred portrait, but I
can hear the silence, it has
pierced me deeply

I shall not run, while
mirrors shatter about my
person, for there is mystery
in the horizon

ope’ for me the caves
permit me to read into the
carvings, is majesty there?—
a chisel in both hands

we have dug as it were
pits of security, where only
light dares to trespass, albeit
darkness dwells in our rearview

love for which the heart
burns, majesty of heightened
consciousness, I ask for nothing
in the shallowness of my grave
 NaiveAndWitty
Joined: 1/23/2010
Msg: 1909
Connected through Mystery
Posted: 11/19/2012 4:11:12 PM
Connected through Mystery

She is one, treasure’s grove,
Running amuck within the
Psyche. I pause in her honor,
Only to hear mirrors shatter.

Her portrait is in my heart, a
Locket burning from passions
Unrequited—how we long for
Dreams, reflections of fantasy.

Her sound is violent. I walk
The silent halls, reading into
The floating pictures, captive
For my trespass.

Melodious streams, even
Melancholic frequencies have
Enchanted my soul. How is
It, that agony is alluring?

Within the cellar of the spirit,
Ever intoxicated with poetry,
She invades, her music moving
The deepness of my soul.

Something majestic has befallen
Lonely hearts, aloof, for
Insecure, asearch for a stronghold,
Gripped with panic.

Such intimacy, cast to the
Shadows, screaming to set love
Free, that it may awaken in the
Bosom of sightless souls.

What have we to flee from? We
Live, ever confronted by mirrors.
Our reality is harsh. Thorns have
Punctured our hopes.
 NaiveAndWitty
Joined: 1/23/2010
Msg: 1910
Connected through Mystery
Posted: 11/26/2012 7:10:26 PM
I love her spirit, a captive of her
essence. Her eyes are brilliant,
luminous and bright. I’m
hypnotized thereby, opening in
degrees. Not to appear as shallow,
but she has the physique of a
goddess, the aura of divinity,
and the elegance of a queen. A
chemical warfare has irrupted in
my being, something otherworldly
is upon us: witness the descending
dove. She is a vat of wine, pouring
into my psyche. Early morning
she appears, a tender reed, as
stalwart as scriptures. I long to
convey the nature of my purest
thoughts, but I am ill-equipped,
grasping at clouds. She is a
riddle, even a contradiction,
walking the shores of my mind. Her
existence is fraught with woes. But
her personality reflects grace—the
grace of a debutante. She has suffered
constructively, transforming her
anguish, this is the root of her power.
Her beauty is both overt and
subliminal, etching through the
coalmines of my soul, casting to the
winds the blackdamp. Should I
convey such admiration?—confining
one to live up to such praise. This
would be cruel, an infraction upon
souls, where such admiration
imprisons the spirit. I shall therefore
hold my peace, pondering upon
choice gold, drowning poetically in
the presence of art.
 NaiveAndWitty
Joined: 1/23/2010
Msg: 1911
Connected through Mystery
Posted: 11/28/2012 4:02:36 PM
she is more than an ornament.
she is a wellspring of diamonds.
though I slumber on her worth,
I’m reminded by almond shaped
eyes.

she’s a cistern of joy, besprinkling
my soul unto calmness and peace.
through her is the doorway to
heaven. She effaces the sorrow.

in appreciation, I’m mesmerized
by a green leaf, drifting, aloft a
vision, attempting to pierce the
future, that I may touch our fate.

where was my mind?—afflicted,
cast to the fiery furnace, dropped
into a pit of hallucinations, where
I slept in webs, digging and sawing
my way free; only to feel

trapped in a labyrinth, searching
to break free of the cycle, hoping
that I am more than just another
skeleton, condemned to the earth.

my joy, my heartbeat, something
lingers in the fog. It is but the
remnants of a fantasy, the force of
manuscripts, else I am blind,
touched by the mystery,

where in my spirit, a riddle has
been sewn. Is it fear? Or is it
misery looking to shatter the
mocking mirrors? I’m lost to what
it is.

but my soul of souls, spark of my
spirit, let us dwell in wholeness,
focused on the rewards of lovers,
captured by divinity.
 NaiveAndWitty
Joined: 1/23/2010
Msg: 1912
Connected through Mystery
Posted: 11/29/2012 2:21:02 PM
Yunus Emre - (1241 - 1321 ce).

Your love has wrested me away from me,
You're the one I need, you're the one I crave.
Day and night I burn, gripped by agony,
You're the one I need, you're the one I crave.

I find no great joy in being alive,
If I cease to exist, I would not grieve,
The only solace I have is your love,
You're the one I need, you're the one I crave.

Lovers yearn for you, but your love slays them,
At the bottom of the sea it lays them,
It has God's images-it displays them;
You're the one I need, you're the one I crave.

Let me drink the wine of love sip by sip,
Like Mecnun, live in the hills in hardship,
Day and night, care for you holds me in its grip,
You're the one I need, you're the one I crave.

Even if, at the end, they make me die
And scatter my ashes up to the shy,
My pit would break into this outcry:
You're the one I need, you're the one I crave.

"Yunus Emre the mystic" is my name,
Each passing day fans and rouses my flame,
What I desire in both worlds in the same:
You're the one I need, you're the one I crave.
 NaiveAndWitty
Joined: 1/23/2010
Msg: 1913
Connected through Mystery
Posted: 12/2/2012 6:17:34 PM
the laughter stems from joy, my
love. you are the sky I aspire to.
welcome me into your fortress.
pass me the key to eternity.

I look for you when my days
are long, hoping that you will
calm the waves. what is the
number to your frequency, for I
pine to chime in.

I often escape to the forest and
muse upon your spirit. you have
infused me with poesy. I, thus,
am indebted to your soul.

I stumbled upon you—the
portrait of perfection, as radiant
as a diamond unhewned. you
took issue with my disposition.

I, here, have to catch myself, for
I’m falling into forbidden habits.
thus, cleanse my eyes wit gold,
that I may see clearly.
 NaiveAndWitty
Joined: 1/23/2010
Msg: 1914
Connected through Mystery
Posted: 12/7/2012 5:42:46 PM
Let Us

let us reap from the harvest of
life, trespassing the vineyard of
hearts. let us float unto we touch
utopia, lost in one another’s arms.
let us vow before the people our
hopes for the future, that we shall
never part, forever intoxicated by
the fragrance of amore, bonded
in the eyes of eternity. let us
speak of visions, prompted by
lovers of old. let us manifest
their dreams, romantically alive
burning in the spirit. let us come
anew, vowing repeatedly the
depth of our love, that we may
rest securely, near tears of joy.
let us treasure our oneness as we
treasure Bethlehem, falling into
the brightness of our star, athirst
for the wisdom of the Magi,
seeping into streams of bliss.
let us remember our first touch
where the spine shivered, and
butterflies overwhelmed our
person; for ours is the essence
of fate, tugging at our souls
directing us in motion. let us
drift into one another’s eyes
building castles in the spirit
en-tranced by the depth of such
presence. let us again kindle a
flame, afire as we dance, chanting
within, swooning from sheer
ecstasy. let us love unto the sea
quakes, boiling in our passion,
dissipating in the steam. indeed
let us hold on forever, where we
renew our pledge daily, living
out the pleasure of our hearts.
 NaiveAndWitty
Joined: 1/23/2010
Msg: 1915
Connected through Mystery
Posted: 12/13/2012 5:07:20 PM
Mystery of Attraction

her dance is musical. but her
countenance is off its hinge.
such delicate vulnerability
captivates attention. as does
sunlight, she has permeated
my personality, etching at my
core, provoking my emotions.
she represents more than the
future; she is the tree of life.
I am anxious to partake of her
fruit—as verboten as poison.
hear the chorus of divinity—
waves of undulations
streaming in honor of love.
but cupid’s arrow is off
course. it has pierced the
heart of another, and my
tantalizing amore is partial
to his dance. I am thus
webbed in the deepness of
spirit, crawling through
wildflowers of adversity,
wrestling with an antique
sensation. yet she remains
my angelic afflatus, even my
poetical koan, moving me
to motion. my dearest
treasure-trove, know that I
am lost in darkness, searching
for freedom, haunted by
symbols of revelation—thus
gripping with all of my might
this talisman. I remember
such precious gestures,
in-tune with the universe,
causing one to drift through
various dimensions. I am now
left to stargaze, with images
pressing against my psyche,
while vibrations plague me
softly. but in this, I am more
than a dreamer. I am one
afflicted by the mystery of
attraction.
 NaiveAndWitty
Joined: 1/23/2010
Msg: 1916
Connected through Mystery
Posted: 12/17/2012 2:40:33 PM
I am a fantast afflicted by
ignescent passions. they burn
deep in my soul, taking captive
my thoughts.

she has become the soulprint
of my existence. I yearn to
hold her in my arms. I would
whisper of matrimony.

the sound of a mandolin echoes
in the mountains, for the heart
of love rages in the spirit. tell
me of such rhythms.

but never a lovelock. just the
force of mystery plaguing the
psyche, where visions erupt
without warning.

what is its secret?—amore has
become a giant, tugging at the
spirit, driving the soul into
a dead-end.

but a circuit is ever vibrant,
where sorrow lingers in the
shadows, of more presence
than a fugacious glance.

was I a knavish man, I could
understand the distance. but
she too protects her homestead.
oh, the controversy!

and where has poetry turned.
as if an aphrodisiac is upon me,
it has turned in her direction.
but she is a frightened soul.

and I do not blame her. beauty
wishes to express itself, despite
the heartache. this is a sickly
alchemy, infecting my life.
 NaiveAndWitty
Joined: 1/23/2010
Msg: 1917
Of Love
Posted: 12/17/2012 4:51:46 PM
Aching Solicitude

my thoughts have become cloudy,
triggering an upwelling of
emotions, wherefore, wounds
speak through mirrors. they
place the spotlight on dreams,
past yearnings which remain
unfulfilled; for I’ve been known
to dote; which proves futile; but
such ambrosia afflicts the soul.
what shall assuage such lesions!
who shall manipulate the keys
of a burning soul?—if such as love
doth exist. enfold me within
dreamland. come to embrace as
only within a vision. but Caesar’s
wife is flawless, leaving one to dwell
in Dartmoor, suffering the affects
of Delilah. Such an opalescent
soul, causing one to covet sin,
with hope for love plangent within
spirit; for the fragrance hereof wafts
one into spheres of paradise. wend
with me, my love. let us touch
divinity. filch of me from myself,
else, I’ll swivet unto exhaustion.
such as beauty dwells in folklore.
it’s rare to behold such art. but
there it dwells, of more worth than
mammon, irrigating one’s soul wit
diamonds, even pearls. permit such
as love to picklock dreams. wrap
one in fantasy’s essence. cast
moonish dispositions to sea; for
an iron collar is about the sun’s
throat, suffocating light.
 NaiveAndWitty
Joined: 1/23/2010
Msg: 1918
Of Love
Posted: 12/19/2012 5:19:13 PM
Come to Me

Oceanic passions rest in my soul.
My thirst for love is unto a forbidden urge.
My muse is a rare diamond, a hidden Goddess.
It’s taboo to tamper in realms of the gods,
but she has pulled me into such a realm, by way
of electrical frequencies. Now such love is
immortalized, captured within fresco secco, for
all that ponder to see. Unto Ukiyoe, such as
passion floats, pulling the soul into mind-caves,
where mirrors are frantic to expose. But have
they exposed the hand of love? Or have they
revealed the heart of beginners, where all is
offbeat? Is this not a similar motif? Where one
loves unto abasement—while the other mourns
such agonies. Mystical drums have ignited
spirit. At once, something is upon us, moving
the depth of our souls. But something compels
us to remain stationary, founded upon an
emotional hope for the future. But a tinge of
divinity is present within spirits. Attraction
lingers as the zephyrs, tugging upon our hermetic
selves. See me as a friend. One that has more
to give. My winsome amore, your worth is
immortal. I am sudden to expound on such
immortality. You are the hand of Rembrandt;
the motivation of De vinci; and the soul of
Praxilla. My love, you are the poetry of mystery,
divinity’s inclinations, moving me to dig deeper.
I plead that the architect of existence write into
fate the union of lovers, lest we perish to
mediocrity, victims of our mortal fears.
Everything has become a symbol, an impression
of what could be. I am constantly reminded
of love’s perfection, awaiting the bold. For
such reasons, I dwell in solitary, atwitter for
the future, drowning within self, partial to my hopes.
Tell me that our Elysian spring is nearer now
than it has ever been. Tell me that we both possess
the passion of Romeo and Juliet; for I am eager to
manifest the poetry of Lord Byron, to even touch
the consciousness of Elizabeth Browning. My
statuesque love, come to me.
 cesska
Joined: 11/7/2011
Msg: 1919
view profile
History
Of Love
Posted: 12/19/2012 9:03:10 PM
how long do I wait for you
if I try to move on
a reminder of you
throws me back

you call us friends
but I am more
I cannot turn off the hold you have on me
28 years I wait

pity me not
it is you
or nothing
so that is what I have
or not
 NaiveAndWitty
Joined: 1/23/2010
Msg: 1920
Of Love
Posted: 12/20/2012 3:43:48 PM
^^^I thank you for the post. I enjoyed reading your poem.
 NaiveAndWitty
Joined: 1/23/2010
Msg: 1921
Of Love
Posted: 12/21/2012 1:25:00 PM
Mother II

You stole from me.
You deprived me of my youth,
forcing me to play the part of
an adult. I saw you wretched
before I saw you whole. In me
you placed a burden, one I was
forced to carry. You treated me
as a woman treats a husband.
Remember you asked me, and I
refused. You sent me to my
room as if I had sinned. In death
you still haunt me. I can’t escape
you, for you beat dysfunction
into my spirit. I once believed
our home represented the homes
of other children. But this is
untrue. Child abuse, emotional
blackmail and molestation isn’t
present in every home. You were
a monster, killing me sharply.
I paid the cost for father’s
infraction. I often wonder of why
he left us. Then I ponder upon
your behavior. You ran him off;
Just as you eventually ran me off.
One must preserve their soul. You
punctured mine through and through.
You attempted to destroy me from
the inside. Parts of me hate you.
This is another infection you
introduced me to. I possess an
ability to hate. Remember as an
adolescent you screamed you hated
me. I was ruined. Again. You
chipped away at my sense of
normality. You are more than a
villain. You were Sybil; feigning
to love me when you were at your
lowest, and hating me when I was
prone to believe in you. But I beg
God you do not suffer; for you were
a product of pain, misfortune and
hatred. As tears fall, I love you.
 wool_c
Joined: 11/30/2010
Msg: 1922
Of Love
Posted: 12/21/2012 3:02:10 PM
The ending took my breath away.
I can identify.
As uncomfortable as they may be, for me, sometimes...***hugs***to you, my friend
 NaiveAndWitty
Joined: 1/23/2010
Msg: 1923
Of Love
Posted: 12/22/2012 11:11:17 AM
^^^ Thank you for stopping through. Hugs to you in return.
 NaiveAndWitty
Joined: 1/23/2010
Msg: 1924
Of Love
Posted: 12/30/2012 1:53:38 PM
Dear Wisdom

Awhirl, struck by the heartbeat of
beauty! My aesthetic amore, it has
always been our place to perish,
suffering desire, adrift upon fancies.
Do imagine the end of tragic tales;
where love conquers and thwarts
the omen’s design. Be not empty,
my love: stripped bare, where
prayer has become mockery, and
love has become an illusion—
where affairs of the heart are
merely contractual. Instead, let us
amble upon dreamscapes, soaked
in poetic streams, running into the
skyline with open arms. Our hopes
possess substance, of more worth
than fairytales. Do not forsake
soul. Rather embrace majesty.
 NaiveAndWitty
Joined: 1/23/2010
Msg: 1925
Of Love
Posted: 1/2/2013 2:47:51 PM
Dear Daffodil

Tell me of requited passions,
such that art explodes and
manifests a dynasty, leaving
hearts satiated without need of
redemption. Such love is
fraught with anguish, for it
requires deepness of spirit,
where every touch aches
within, severing souls.

Have we been torn asunder,
my love?—pining that we may
be healed.

My mystical amore, pardon
my doting, but there is a need
burning into my being, causing
me to crumble unto prayer.
 NaiveAndWitty
Joined: 1/23/2010
Msg: 1926
Of Love
Posted: 1/2/2013 4:30:21 PM
Purity

My untimely muse, how I yearn
for an impression, heavy upon a
writhing soul. In vision the
unseen is upon us, sorely
imprinting our spirit. A piece of
love is growing wildly, tugging
upon strings of mind—thus
consciousness is aflame, marring
the vineyard. It’s powerful as a
heartbeat—sacred as life—digging
into caves depth the forbidden.
I have walked away from dreams.
But visions have become portraits
flashing my inner kingdom. Is
it more than a whiff of romance?—
for its presence is sunshine
revealing a mystery in the horizon.
Or is it a hope suffocated by fate?—
wherefore, a fantast dies softly, while
a damsel loses herself in mirrors.
Pieces of the self have scattered in
the winds. I am witness to becoming
tumbleweed, yanking thorns from
my being, only to be pierced through
by briers. Only majesty can redeem
us. I, however, wonder: if it drives
the art of poesy, should one endure
its design, or should one loath it, for
it serves as an inscrutable desire?
An altruistic man would choose the
former, whereas, a selfish man would
choose the latter. Either/or, a
sacrifice must be made. But it isn’t
designed by human favor, and it’s
certain to crush souls if it comes to
fruition. Thus, let poesy burn,
subject to unrequited passions
which agonize depth the soul—
passions that can never be requited.
 NaiveAndWitty
Joined: 1/23/2010
Msg: 1927
Of Love
Posted: 2/3/2013 4:50:41 PM
It was yesterday, folly was born.
Out of insanity a hint of truth
Peeked, exposing a wayward soul.
Has one learned to love?—albeit
Shattered, a heartbeat from ecstasy.
What is the measurement of such
Love? It resounds through a
Treeless forest, where upon knees
Mendicant monks gaze into
Silence. Thoughts beleaguer an
Insecure mind, where her visage
Is ever looming, vibrating unto
An ominous presence. A
Chatoylant impression fraughts
The soul, for the heart has grown
Warm, wherefrom is this source?
Within the demesne of a burning
Ache, where skies fall, she walks
Upon the sea, staring into my eyes.
Erstwhile, a spirit is suffering for
A liaison that shall never be. Or
Have I prophesied in haste? My
Fetching enigma, the ceiling is
Falling and eyes are glowing
through darkness—a love is
wanting. When shall we gambol
To the heartbeat of satiation?
I drift.
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