I don't love you as if you were the salt-rose, topaz
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:
I love you as certain dark things are loved,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that doesn't bloom and carries
hidden within itself the light of those flowers,
and thanks to your love, darkly in my body
lives the dense fragrance that rises from the earth.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you simply, without problems or pride:
I love you in this way because I don't know any other way of loving
but this, in which there is no I or you,
so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand,
so intimate that when I fall asleep it is your eyes that close.
Apr 8, 2018
Apr 8, 2018 at 2:03 PM UTC
during my worst times
on the park benches
in the jails
or living with
******
I always had this certain
contentment-
I wouldn't call it
happiness-
it was more of an inner
balance
that settled for
whatever was occuring
and it helped in the
factories
and when relationships
went wrong
with the
girls.
it helped
through the
wars and the
hangovers
the backalley fights
the
hospitals.
to awaken in a cheap room
in a strange city and
pull up the shade-
this was the craziest kind of
contentment
and to walk across the floor
to an old dresser with a
cracked mirror-
see myself, ugly,
grinning at it all.
what matters most is
how well you
walk through the
fire.
Apr 8, 2018
Apr 8, 2018 at 1:58 PM UTC
In that book
which is
My memory . . .
On the first page
That is the chapter when
I first met you
Appear the words . . .
Here begins a new life
Mar 12, 2018
Mar 12, 2018 at 1:28 PM UTC
Both light and shadow
are the dance of Love.
Love has no cause;
it is the astrolabe of God’s secrets.
Lover and Loving are inseparable
and timeless.
Although I may try to describe Love
when I experience it I am speechless.
Although I may try to write about Love
I am rendered helpless;
my pen breaks and the paper slips away
at the ineffable place
where Lover, Loving and Loved are one.
Every moment is made glorious
by the light of Love.
Mar 12, 2018
Mar 12, 2018 at 1:22 PM UTC
A lover asked his beloved,
Do you love yourself more
than you love me?
The beloved replied,
I have died to myself
and I live for you.
I’ve disappeared from myself
and my attributes.
I am present only for you.
I have forgotten all my learning,
but from knowing you
I have become a scholar.
I have lost all my strength,
but from your power
I am able.
If I love myself
I love you.
If I love you
I love myself.
Mar 12, 2018
Mar 12, 2018 at 1:22 PM UTC
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way
than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
Mar 4, 2018
Mar 4, 2018 at 12:49 PM UTC
Every night before I rest my head
I strip myself down until I am bare;
What's mine is His
So with Him I share.
I lie myself down across the bed and prepare to implement my prayers so that we may be intimate.
He enters me, penetrating my entirety
He relies on me
I ride on His serenity
Until He releases all of the devil's ties incising me
He restrains my frame and forces me to refrain from dancing in the flame
Cast by my demons.
Like draining,
He empties me
Of all residual sin remaining within
He comes
Into the heart of my soul
And we console each other.
Whispers,
Heavy breathing,
Until Amen
We continue on conceiving
Until I am whole again.
He smothers my heaving chest
With His Love
His Love
He covers me, in the midst of
His love,
He puts me to rest.
Feb 28, 2018
Feb 28, 2018 at 10:31 PM UTC
Unusual I've been
labeled, they laugh
I am handicap because
their prints I refuse
to follow so I'm
disabled ....
Never purposely
tried to portray this
rose amongst the
many leaves I'm just
walking my destined
path our god happened
to lead..... We all wasn't
born to sprout from your
common tree, some of
us unseen until the beauty
explodes from
underneath, or some of us
live beneath empowering
the entire scene from the root
to the roof we all have different
means
Antisocial I've been
labeled, they laugh I
am handicap because
I lack the ability to
see... What am I looking
for if my care only supports
the thought of lead? Blind
to what ever they claim resides
in front of me so they call me
weird and stare at me
awkwardly
Never will I
take part in ****
that don't interest
me just to sport another's
shoe I say f*ck your
common feet...
I'm sorry... I laugh
because you allowed your
god granted free will to
become extinct... your
handicap brainwashed
into believing that there's
only one way to think
Unusual
© 2014 viewtifulink
Feb 28, 2018
Feb 28, 2018 at 10:28 PM UTC
As I lie here
With eyes closed softly
I think deeply of you
And I inhale stars
The scent of twinkling light
So fresh and alive
Sparkling gentle inside me
And I want to write this feeling
So tentatively
As it must be
Like writing words on bubbles
Delicate and precious
Begging them not to disappear
Like dreams in the morning
By Phil Roberts
Feb 28, 2018
Feb 28, 2018 at 10:23 PM UTC