If I could read you like a book
I’d read you from cover to cover.
What would I find as each leaf turned over
To find me more and more hooked?
Your expression the preface?
Your walk the reference?
Your thoughts - the appendix?
You should copyright all these.
Your table of contents
Your chapters and headings,
Short stories or pretense,
Or expression of longings.
Each page a blessing
Reader and writer forever conjoined.
Read/Writing without resting
No writer’s block or pages deformed.
One page flying into another
As the story of you unfolds.
Could I be a footnoted lover
With a love that remolds?
Or perhaps the main character,
One to gray and grow old?
Placing one hand on your spine
While the other opens the divine.
Oh if only I could read you like a book
I’d read you from cover to cover
Memorize every line.
The are many meanings in this piece. Least of which are the feelings between two lovers or those evoked by a poem or a book. The most important meaning is that connection to the Devine that resides in each of us.
...it comes from feeling...
We feel emotions and form them into words
FEEL : POETRY : FORM
We form words to make us feel emotions
...it comes from forming...
A sacred oath between words and emotions.
A devine circle between action and reaction.
The Arabic word for poetry is "****'ir" which comes from "Yash'ur". It means feeling.
Poetry comes from the Greek word 'poiesis' which means making or forming. Its interesting that both words describe poetry by pointing to the different ends of it.
They say I should smile but it's quite not my style but I have to admit it's been quite the while. Miserably painted, but not quite tainted. Precisely waiting. When the whole scene quit hating on fragile things as it seems. The strength to stand, to understand the reason how such events may occur revolving all you thought you embraced, faced. Without a trace you erase the value of what it could be worth deep within. Beneath the skin. Where a majestically beautiful world, a universe lies. Many disguise, other wise to harmonize what shines that intertwines at the core. That they ignore, how extraordinary with the things behind the eyes. My concept may be in ordinary of what truly lies beneath your surface. The thing we call purpose instead of a limited burden inside of him.
Many don't see beyond their apprehension.
Ears I don't need to hear the music you are.
I don't have to sing along to be one with thy song
You are the tune, my words fit in, meaning falls in place,
The voice rises and falls,the journey of my music thus begins.
You are the river of nectar, that never ceases to nourish my shores.
That doesn't need any space or time to flow through; it never ends.
A drop of it's ebullience, I am catapulted from the flow of your wave.
I roam, searching for you, to return and immerse in your fathomlessness.
The way she flows against me
Fast and slow
To and fro
As we go
The ****** we know
The waves of ecstasy
That washes or souls
From those vine grew love,light and happiness,
And in those thorns was blood, flesh and death,
Deeply intwined between flesh and soul,
In its leaves where we are born,
As in its root the dying of the light,
As darkness come to all living things,
Yet from the ash the dying of the night,
As cycles through the twining vine,
Creates the circle and the eye of the devine.
and i'm scared because if
somebody says your name accidentaly
out loud, i swear i'm gonna
explode in screams and storms
and cry myself to death, 'cause
even the sound of your name out of other
person's lips, sounds so beautifully
devine to me, and my skin is sensitive
and still untouched, ready to be burned
by your flaming fingertips,
but what if you never want me to burn?
"baby you're the best
i've ever had,
you are so crazy,
you make me mad,
and when i grab your hand
and intertwine your fingers
you'll just look at the moon
and back at me, and you'll
look so devine."
— The End —