Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 May 2014
Jack
~


Trinkets of touch saved for memories keeping
Traces of love we now lock in our hearts
Days never end as the mornings beginning
Tears find their path in our moments apart
~
Catching a glimpse of the barren horizon
Wondering what it will bring to our eyes
Simply the thought of the one true affection
Caught in the stars that do light up the skies
~
Here as I sit on this beach ever changing
Lost in the mind is the essence of proof
Moving my feet, causing ruts in the sand floor
Noticing nothing aside from the truth
~
Why does it seem that this life wallows empty
Every day is the same only more
Swiftly the clouds bring the rain’s chilly vision
Dreaming of only the one I adore
~
Drinking the drops in the puddles of reason
Splashing against all that I’ve ever known
Capturing dreams in a spoon that is leaking
Now as I write in these words all alone
~
Hard to believe that a flower is blooming
Fragrance as sweet as the heart beat we share
Chains bear the lock that does keep me from reaching
Look but don’t touch is the warning...beware
~
I long to run down the path of decision
Challenge my fear in this soft ocean breeze
Finding a cave at the edge of the mountain
Placing my soul in the shadows to breathe
~
Only my heart keeps me here by the wayside
Hoping beyond every truth that does form
Lasting the pain of this fearless affection
Keeping my place in the face of the storm
~
Proving to no one’s un-answering questions
Feeling ashamed as I’ve nothing to show
Still I will wait on the eve of my lifetime
Promising always that I’ll love you so
~
For I am a man who does desperately need you
There is no other that I’m thinking of
Here I will sit till the world it is ending
Counting the days till I know your sweet love
~
Why can’t we meet at the same destination
Drink of the day that affords us the view
Forget the world and its many distractions
Except for this love that I hold here for you
~
 May 2014
Sjr1000
Defining love
has been at the heart
of
everything I have ever done.

Defining love asks
when
I look deep into your eyes
see you deep inside
strengths and flaws
moments of harmony
moments of discord
moments of acceptance
moments of rejection

Defining love asks for more

Defining love
takes into account
we all have our hours
of
wild eyed insanity
No escape from that.
The question is asked
"irritating and annoying?"
or
are those wild eyes devastating
and hurting every time
defining love demands
stay or go.

Defining love
creates the thought
generates the emotion
brings the consequence
the story
we tell ourselves.

Defining love sometimes sends us to
**** ****** afternoons
exhausted and relaxed
defining love moves to closeness
to
these exquisite moments of  release.

Defining love plays up guilt
for everything
that could of
should of
been.

Defining love thinks that educating
is the way to be
slamming knowledge
in
rants and diatribes
"just what
my daddy
did
to me"

Defining love
will make you tough
by
being tough
and selling false expectations.
We all know what comes from this
my endless supply of mental patients.

Defining love doesn't give up
it has been said
******
defining love and feeling it
are all *******
defining love loves to be defined.

Defining love loves to dance
head off into
a moving with the music
trance
defining love wants to be defined
using no words
defining love aches for romance.

Defining love takes only prisoners
places hearts in solitary confinement
hopefully not condemned to others
or
alone again.

Defining love sometimes laughs
sometimes it comes
in a gasp.

The perfect
orchid
rose
lily
defining love is natural
no artificial ingredients
the only preservative
is
called life.

Defining love finally settles down
and comes around for acceptance
tenderness
a
child that sleeps in pure innocence
what really matters
is
the innocence
within us
all.
 May 2014
Sjr1000
I sat
on the love seat
staring out the window.

I knew you knew

You had a heart of gold
a sweet companion
a
**** nature too
well known
on the pathway to enlightenment

You knew I knew

My mind had absorbed
too many years
of
being witness
too
to much misery
and you were so kind.

We both had touched each other
without makeup, costumes or disguise.

You didn't know
I had a fatal flaw
that
kept me alone
but
I knew it far too well.

I didn't know
but
you knew
your eyes said yes
but
your heart says "no".

No wonder
we both
had one hand out
saying,  "stop"
While
the other hand
beckoned
to come forward

Push
pull
approach
avoidance

Neither of us knew
we were meant for another.

I
got up to close the window
as the breeze turned cold
and the sun went down.
Johari's Window. Easy to research. The short version: we both know something about  each other and we both know it about ourselves.

I know something about you that you know about yourself.

You know something about me that I know.

I know something about me you don't know

You know something about yourself I don't know

There is something we both don't know about ourselves
or
each other.
 May 2014
A Mareship
Toscar and I barely know one another. We burst into the house like two lions, scrapping, kissing.
       “******* hell. This place is huge.”
I have a desperation. His parka is wet.
       “You’re so cute.” He says as he hauls me upstairs. He unzips my jeans, throwing open doors, trying to find my room.  His hair is biscuity and thick. “You’re so ****. So cute.”

At around three o’clock we sit in the cold garden, smoking. He’s put his parka back on, with the hood up.
       “So, what’s going on with your eye and all?”
“I’m not sure. I have to have an MRI.” I glance over at him. “Maybe I’m dying.”
       “You’re not dying.”
“Maybe I am.”
He exhales a ball of smoke.
“My mum died of motor neurone disease.” He says. “Horrible ******* thing. And there’s a fifty-fifty chance I’ll get it too.” He pauses and fumbles around in his pocket, pulling out a pound coin. He starts flipping the coin a little bit, before putting it back in his pocket. I think he wants to make a point about his chances, but it’s too dark to really see the coin. “I just don’t think about it. Death. There’s no point. I’m alright today, d’y’know what I mean?” There is a silence.
       “My boyfriend died.” I say, eventually.
“Yeah, I know.” He says quietly. “Anthony told me.”
I try to stop myself. I really do. But I start to cry. Toscar doesn’t care. He pulls his white chair over to mine, and he lets me cry and cry and cry.
“I don’t want to be here anymore.” I say, and I’m not sure if I mean here, in the garden, in the house, or here, in the world. It doesn’t matter what I mean, anyway.
       “Hey, mate.” Toscar says, very gently. “You didn’t die.”
 May 2014
A Mareship
There is a deep, rich silence and the bedsheets are as soft as oil.
“What do you think happens when you die?” I ask. “From a purely scientific perspective. Is there any way…?”
Dee rolls his shoulders onto my hands.
“No, Art. I told you. There’s just nothing.”
“But I can’t imagine ‘nothing’.”
“Of course you can. Before you were born – what was there?”
“There was the promise of me.”
“No. There was the risk of you.”
We both laugh.
“There must be something.” I say. “There must be.”
“I hope there’s nothing.” Dee says. “ I can’t think of anything worse than an afterlife. I want peace and quiet. A lifetime is enough. Being alive is such a strange predicament. Knowing everything and knowing nothing.”
I can feel his heart against me. I can feel his heart and smell his skin. I feel us, as we are rocked by the world and breathing together.
And outside is the garden, the wisteria, the white chair, the promise (and the risk) of something, anything, everything, nothing.
 May 2014
RebeccaSian
I unlearn this love,
Forget the electricity
that burns within me
as I catch your eye

Humming with the radio low

Push aside memories of your smell

The taste of whiskey on my fingers

Scratch your name away from toilet doors, note-books,

my skin

I remove memories as casually as you undressed me

Layer by layer

Turn my face away from dreaming
Teach my hands to be still

And I learn to breathe

With your hands around my neck
 May 2014
Mike Hauser
She spreads strawberry jam
In the palm of her hand
Adding flavor to her handshakes

Sips life through a straw
Taking it slow
Enjoying the taste of each new day

She wears vintage clothes
Because everyone knows
The past holds hidden treasures

Along with rose colored shades
To help her stay
In the frame of mind that nothing much matters
 May 2014
SE Reimer
~              
the language of love,
it has no equivalence,
we speak what we hope,
we seek what we love;
vacillating? perhaps,
but there is no ambivalence.
lovers whisper, lovers shout;
alternating between holding it in,
or getting the words out.
whether sweet words of friendship,
or letting the heart go,
each tells a tale, a heartbeat,
one the spirit only knows.
is it the “shemomedjamo” of Georgia,
the “overindulgence that
cannot stop this appetite;”
or “lagom” of the Swedes,
who speak of moderation?
where what i have and what i see,
is perfect, just right!
the words, “koi no yokan,”
from the culture of the east,
Japanese speak of the instant of knowing
a love that’s “meant to be.”
there is “mamihlapinatapai,”
used by those at the tip,
of Tierra del Fuego’s windswept cliffs,
a lover’s wish they can’t set free;
further north Brazilians speak,
of “cafune,” the sweet tugging
at her long and flowing hair;
a love that reaches,
strokes, so tenderly.
the Thai use “greng-jai,”
for love that defers...
and to sacrifice refers;
the French have “retrouvailles,”
a love that sparks rediscovery,
where distance knows no separation;
“onsra,” is a love
soon to be a thing of the past;
used in Burma and India when spoken of
a love that cannot last.
the “saudade,” of the Portuguese,
of love that can no longer be,
though it may have been consuming,
is now but bittersweet.
and then... there is Arabic’s “tuqburni,”
a love that says so gently
“without you i am dying!”
each, it has no English equivalent
yet somehow we manage...
we find our true love,
in relationships, in marriage,
for love is a catholic language;
even when there are no words,
where touch, where tender looks,
translations of the unheard thoughts;
where pillows hold the notes of longing,
empty bars and stanzas filled;
oh love, oh boundless one,
under steeples pledge your troth,
to death’s door you take your oath,
to forever sing your universal song!
post script.

http://malaysiandigest.com/frontpage/29-4-tile/485098-6-romantic-words-with-no-english-equivalent.html


Words with no English Equivalent

-Over indulgence-
Shemomedjamo (Georgian)
You know when you're really full, but your meal is just so delicious, you can't stop eating it? The Georgians feel your pain. This word means, "I accidentally ate the whole thing."

-Moderation-
Lagom (Swedish)
Maybe Goldilocks was Swedish? This slippery little word is hard to define, but means something like, "Not too much,
and not too little, but juuuuust right."

-Love at first sight-
Koi No Yokan (Japanese)
The sense upon first meeting a person that the two of you are going to fall in love.

-Love that cannot be-
Mamihlapinatapai
(Yaghan language of Tierra del Fuego)
This word captures that special look shared between two people, when both are wishing that the other would do something that they both want, but neither want to do.  a look between two people in love that expresses unspoken but mutual desire. It describes a look shared when two people are both waiting for the other to make the next move. As long as no one caves in, it can be an endless source of ****** tension.

-Love so tenderly-
Cafune (Brazilian Portuguese)
Leave it to the Brazilians to come up
with a word for, "tenderly running
your fingers through your lover's hair."

-Love that defers to sensibilities-
Greng-jai (Thai)
That feeling you get when you don't want
someone to do something for you
because it would be a pain for them.

-Love that sparks rediscovery -
Retrouvailles (French) — Literally translated as “rediscovery,” is the happiness a two people experiences of meeting again, after a long separation. Long-distance relationships really could not survive without this and when or if too much time passes, this could mean regret. (Potential English equivalent: reigniting the flame, or on the contrary,
letting the flame go out.)

-Love that knows it cannot last -
Onsra (Boro language of India) — There are several ways to love in Boro, and onsra is the bittersweet term for “to love for the last time.”
(Potential English equivalent: Last love.)

-Love that knows it cannot be-
Saudade (Portugese)
a strong feeling of missing someone you love;
a bittersweet sense of a relationship
that will never be again.

-Love that says, I cannot live without you-
Tuqburni  (Arabic)  a love so deep,
you can’t imagine life without your partner.
Literal English translation: “You bury me”
or basically saying,
“I cannot imagine life without
you"… or  "I’d die without you.”
 May 2014
K Balachandran
He felt her
inner thunder,
waves of scarlet
reverberating
in his *****;
deep in the marrow
a pleasant tingling.
"Your sun spoke to me,
his insistence, very pleasant
reached me as waves"
later she coyly
whispered in his ears.

Let go all pretensions,
honestly compare notes
of hearts, the magic happens.
              They created their
big bang on a sprawling bed,
all are echoes, he, she and the rest.
Even the universe that pulsates
within and spreads outwards
as waves.
 May 2014
Jack
~

As evening takes my hand




“For in your light I dream, as evening takes my hand”

Silently I find my thoughts illumined by your beauty;
In soft shimmers of dancing silhouettes
and patterns allowing breaths to sigh

Eyes peer into velvet skies,
visions set in motion eternally, find me
stranded within the confines of my heart…longing for you
Desperate for but a breeze, a movement of shadow,
a hope of wishes made upon the early arrival
of this crested view

Lonely among the sycamore, towering soldiers
lined at fielded boundaries, claiming wisdom
as they too reach for your smile

“And I yearn the knowledge of your distant view”

Do you think, do you feel, do you dream of me
from balconies high above hibiscus footpaths,
candle lit in passing moments which flicker…enchant

Drinking from a porcelain cup caressed by your hand,
a touch my body pleads, soft fingers on smooth surroundings,
ripples following moonlight sonatas,
days of spring blooms and whimsical showers,
flooding affections to wash over me…
carry me home

This moon, suspended in charcoal heavens
upon a beaded blanket of perfect pearls,
beckons our dreams in simultaneous fashion

*“Does your heart share this moon tonight…with me”
 May 2014
a m a n d a
(a modern fairy tale)

ah, yes.
it's a good thing that
i am not in charge of writing
fairy tales for the children.

the best hell i can imagine
is forcing the prince
to see through my eyes.

feel my struggle
burn in the betrayal
dwell in the hatred

for the prince to understand
what he has done
would be fair.

and in this tale,
no frog turns into a prince
with a kiss.

in this tale,
the prince turns into a swine
with alarming skill.
Next page