Each lover has some theory of his own
About the difference between the ache
Of being with his love, and being alone:
Why what, when dreaming, is dear flesh and bone
That really stirs the senses, when awake,
Appears a simulacrum of his own.
Narcissus disbelieves in the unknown;
He cannot join his image in the lake
So long as he assumes he is alone.
The child, the waterfall, the fire, the stone,
Are always up to mischief, though, and take
The universe for granted as their own.
The elderly, like Proust, are always prone
To think of love as a subjective fake;
The more they love, the more they feel alone.
Whatever view we hold, it must be shown
Why every lover has a wish to make
Some kind of otherness his own:
Perhaps, in fact, we never are alone.
Apr 22, 2020
Apr 22, 2020 at 5:29 PM UTC
If you come as softly
As the wind within the trees
You may hear what I hear
See what sorrow sees.
If you come as lightly
As threading dew
I will take you gladly
Nor ask more of you.
You may sit beside me
Silent as a breath
Only those who stay dead
Shall remember death.
And if you come I will be silent
Nor speak harsh words to you.
I will not ask you why now.
Or how, or what you do.
We shall sit here, softly
Beneath two different years
And the rich between us
Shall drink our tears.
Apr 22, 2020
Apr 22, 2020 at 5:04 PM UTC
To fling my arms wide
In some place of the sun,
To whirl and to dance
Till the white day is done.
Then rest at cool evening
Beneath a tall tree
While night comes on gently,
Dark like me-
That is my dream!
To fling my arms wide
In the face of the sun,
Dance! Whirl! Whirl!
Till the quick day is done.
Rest at pale evening...
A tall, slim tree...
Night coming tenderly
Black like me.
Apr 19, 2020
Apr 19, 2020 at 3:12 PM UTC
I had my first dream last night that you weren't in.
not even a minor character,
your ****** name wasn't even in the credits,
let alone plastered across the sky in flashing lights
like you want it to be.
my first reality that you didn't belong in,
and it was the most blissful peace that I can remember since we bathed in pools of cloud.
I heard the first song that didn't make me think of you yesterday.
the lyrics, for once, were just lyrics,
not an embodiment of you and the things you do.
guess what?
it was coldplay.
you always hated coldplay.
this morning, I basked in the sun and didn't picture you coated in gold light beside me.
I didn't look at the leaves adorning the trees and picture your face laughing beneath it.
I didn't trace the plate lines of my palm and imagine the earthquake we used to create when yours collided with mine.
I didn't eat new food that I wanted you to try and I didn't want to share the smallest details of my day with you.
you may have won this poem, loverboy,
but don't be too triumphant.
your victory won't last long.
it's the era of my new beginnings without you and I'm going to be just fine.
Apr 18, 2020
Apr 18, 2020 at 3:47 PM UTC
I opened my eyes
And looked up at the rain,
And it dripped in my head
And flowed into my brain,
And all that I hear as I lie in my bed
Is the slishity-slosh of the rain in my head.
I step very softly,
I walk very slow,
I can't do a handstand--
I might overflow,
So pardon the wild crazy thing I just said--
I'm just not the same since there's rain in my head.
Apr 18, 2020
Apr 18, 2020 at 3:43 PM UTC
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
Write, for example, 'The night is starry
and the stars are blue and shiver in the distance.'
The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.
She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.
To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.
What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is starry and she is not with me.
This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
My sight tries to find her as though to bring her closer.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.
The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.
I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.
Another's. She will be another's. As she was before my kisses.
Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.
I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.
Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.
translated by W.S. Merwin
Apr 18, 2020
Apr 18, 2020 at 3:37 PM UTC
Pressesd tenderly,
your carnal flower opens,
its butterfly released,
hovers like a hummingbird
drinking from the bill.
Oh, I too would steal you away
and cage you happily,
to get under your black-fringed skirt;
to see that pretty dress,
fly off once more,
and see you bare;
burned now forever in my banks,
a first sight,
of dark curls!
As I think of it,
my desire stirs,
but of us
I have already masturbated twice:
jammed,
hips pinned,
sliding over our wet perspiring bellies,
in our jungle heat:
'cause in the firmament of our embrace
- it's hot -
where glued we **** into each other,
stoking flames,
until sleep,
when we disappear from each other.
My mind crowds,
with niggling neurotic inanities;
yours with manic dreams where bed-wetting criminals in cages beg to be freed,
before better spaces overtake.
When I awake,
I am lying next to you,
Gwen over the horizon of your fertile valley,
a mountain,
white and reposed.
You,
murmuring desire for me.
****
I can't wait to answer.
It is late,
late morning,
and we are all half asleep.
You have your back to me,
as we lie,
rubbing feet,
stroking hands,
(the oiled bulb at the end of a finger),
your fine shoulders,
(that delicate but persistent bone in your wrist that stretches with pointed elegance);
as quietly inside,
(warmly enveloped),
my couched *****
rocks us:
each diffusing into the other
like the early morning brew.
Lust and love,
closing-in,
which for a good while on edge had been:
the weeks,
days,
hours;
faint promises from afar;
sometimes a little closer,
our shadows in daylight cross,
as one over the other storms;
and once (or twice),
a sleeve brushes,
even better,
hair crackles,
as a speaking lip touches lobe,
and for a moment,
taking in the other's scent,
a hint sublimely overpowers.
And these,
dearest of fancies,
are just some,
with which to penetrate your mind,
as you have mine:
the energy of my yielding tenderness,
inviting you to complete me,
as I spread for you with desire.
Much later,
those daring looks you have,
the way you walk our stage:
your beautiful elongated face,
those quick-fire arousing eyes,
your sultry self-assuredness,
your pre-possessing self.
I could talk about your couple,
of generosity,
reaching up,
beyond mere comprehension:
of the fact that I like Gwen
(his love gift for you, me);
but actually,
in truth,
I prefer to take this moment to make love to you;
to say how wrapped I am,
folded in your limbs,
in our mingling sweat;
how with your joy,
you touch my desires,
into yours,
so they flow,
run rather:
honeysuckle from your blessed nymphae.
You love my smell,
you say,
and I dream of gathering you in pheromones,
of drugging you,
of intoxicating you,
so once again you will find me,
take me,
have me.
Entice you once more like a creature from its shell:
Come!
where I can ravish you,
all of you,
lay naked to me,
flesh,
sinews,
everything,
your very bones;
those fine elbows,
those knees I would like to ********* over;
wash their smooth surfaces in my come:
from these cliff heights,
rain ***** on the rocks below.
To once more cast aside your socks and get at your toes,
to pour oil on 'em,
to rub and squeeze' em,
while in the moist cavern of your insides,
we ****
half washed over by our own tide.
And as we do,
I quail,
speaking sweet nothings of appreciation;
from full lips,
your sounds return,
the hypnotic rhythm of your breath:
I engorge and in our labyrinth,
- the maiden and the bull -
we consume ourselves.
There,
Sweet Lentiform,
you did it,
you got me rolling in flesh,
lusting after your intimate parts,
wanting you in bed as I know you must have me:
pulling me on you,
kissing and biting;
my arousal in your palm,
pops,
as you run a curved finger over my nethers.
Lying,
lying,
side-by-side,
lying prone,
lying ******
never unconsumed,
because,
please,
please us,
with more;
so rarely,
unfucked even for a pause,
nothing doing more than sleeping and carousing;
our sustenance barely enough to keep us at it,
an occasional comic thrown in.
Oh,
God,
throw the ******* comic at me,
will you?
Beat my ******* flesh with it if you like.
Anything to see you standing in all your pearly naked glory!
And if you can,
keep texting me,
so I can hang on your every word like a ******* puppy!
Beautiful
long-haired,
skin tight,
upright,
wise,
gorgeously wild,
woman ...
Now pull me by my **** into your **** -
where I love it best.
Nov 23, 2019
Nov 23, 2019 at 9:09 AM UTC
One
Im sorry that i didnt call you a thousand times when we fight
It is just..
There is this one deep scar on my left thumb
it traumatized the heaven out of me
the last time i did that to someone
I left millions of unanswered voicemail
Every single day
Two
I'm sorry that i ran and slept
Whenever the storm brews between us
The last hundreds of storms
Which I went inside only to find myself lost
And got all of these scars on my wrist and hips
I keep telling you that im brave
But im so ******* scared most of the times
Im scared of you not wanting me in the way i wanted you
Three
I'm sorry that you feel the need
To tip toe around the wondrous tread that you have
Around me..
The need to be happy had become a purpose
Protecting my soul from ugliness of life has made me embed an ugly scar deep within me
When you are so used to be living underneath the surface
The water above you will feel so terrifying
Im sorry that deep inside im a ******* total mess
A mess that is trying so hard to treat you the way that you deserved
I love you with every breath that i took since the day i realized that I'm loved
And every breath that i will take for the rest of this life
You made me feel like as if
No one has ever touched this ugly soul
And broke it into every prospect possible
i can't simply escape
From the life that gave me all of these scars
But don't be scared my love
These scars are fading away anyway
Slowly but confidently
Mar 18, 2019
Mar 18, 2019 at 1:32 PM UTC
Loving you is life,
loving you is having you
loving you is the beginnings
loving you is the cold
loving you is fire
loving you is the storm
loving you is vibrant colors
loving you is gloomy nights
loving you is everydays of joy
loving you is sadness together
loving you is being simple
loving you is a flaw
loving you is noticing the unnoticeable
loving you is loving you nonetheless
loving you is wanting to see a smile
loving you is the mood
loving you is looking forward
loving you is a glimpse of the past
loving you is an uphill
loving you is feeling down
loving you is an adventure
loving you is unexpected
loving you is pain
loving you is mended wounds
loving you is believing
loving you is broken trust
loving you was a journey,
loving you was life.
Nov 15, 2018
Nov 15, 2018 at 12:35 PM UTC
The first puncture
Makes me beg for more and more
You literally give me colours
Everytime you get into this skin
They said that you are impenetrable
But this is me trying
To be skin deep with you
You should know by now that im restless and nothing's stopping me now
It's the small wounds and the colours
You touch me little by little
and drop by drop
It completes the art i want to have in me
I dont do tattoo baby
But i got your name inked all over my heart
Oct 17, 2018
Oct 17, 2018 at 5:54 AM UTC