is what we long to experience..
Lightness a suggestion of relief
from our weighty culture
where struggle's contractions
seem to fill our days..
Lightness of course
refers to what is heavy
but also points to the Light
in its name and to
Being which we know
as our true Self...

She rests her head
Over the stains of my pleasure
That thought alone
Makes me feel better
She goes for your phone
But I know you won't let her
Because you're  still holding on
To our love with a tether
The string that binds us
That you refuse to sever
You ask for me back
But I'm far too clever
Your words mean nothing
When you say you regret her
I will not go back
Sorry love,
Never.

It's not a hobby. Be prepared to give your life to it.
Read, read, read: The more poetry you read now,
the better your's will become.
Don't quit your day job. No one ever got rich writing poetry.
If you are seeking fame or to get laid,
there are obviously easier methods.
Ignore criticism, unless it is useful, and even then be wary.
Consider: Your feelings do not constitute the universe;
your love life may not be all that interesting.
Write every day. Don't wait for the Muse.
She is a fickle ***** prone to take random vacations.
Forget originality. It will paralyze you.
Write like a ******. That's what poets are.
Look forward to embarrassing yourself.
Say it in the fewest, best words.
Nothing is easy. Be prepared to burn for it.
Be joyful, though you have considered all the facts.

~mce

It is raining
And the sky is gray but it holds
A sort of secret light
A brightness that lends a pearly quality to the falling drops.
It is a lovely, quiet radiance
And it reminds me of you.
In my head I see your face
Your moss green eyes, wide and framed by long dark lashes
Your hair, wild and reaching, the way it stirs in the wind and bounces when you laugh
Your white body in the darkness
A sliver of bone in moonlight
Strong and soft at once, smooth and unblemished, almost liquid, almost velvet, almost light.
I wonder
How the years will make you lovelier
For I know they will.
I see your beautiful hair
Gone silver like spun spidersilk
Falling in ringlets past your shoulders.
I see the forest in your eyes
Grow tall and reach for the heavens,
Gold and green mingling as ever, just as vibrant, just magnetic.
Something about your eyes in a face full of the carvings of laughter and tears, marked by every love and loss and sunny day,
Something about how unchanged they will be
But how much more complete
Makes my heart swell.
I want to see you grow like a tree, like a forest.
I want to see every way you change.
And I know that someday those fathomless eyes,
Young and old at the same time, like the trees,
Will look at me with doubt, with chagrin,
That you will wonder if I want you
As you age
That nothing I say then will be able to convince you completely that I do,
And it makes me smile sadly.
Because as I sit here gazing out the window, seeing in my mind's eye how you'll change,
I can't think of anything more beautiful and more inspiring
Than watching you grow old
Next to me.

if pretending
that i dont love you
is the only way
to stay close to you,
i swear i will do it
a million times over

There is a poem that awaits
To be discovered,
A seed of thought that wants its
petals in the wind.
It was born of a woman I made
Impossible love to,
Heralded by her missed touch.

The verses are kissed with her
Destinies and embraces,
The light she left in my soul
Tells me of a place
I will write;
A Nightingale's dance under
The tranquil Moon's glow.

And only I know the words,
But they slip into dimensions
Unknown to me;
As though they take flight in
All my dreams.....

Under endless recollections
I sigh a thousand times from
A fountain among highest heights,
That of the waters of  memory
That evades me.

Clothes lying on the floor.
Wine spilled all over.
Wrapped inside your arms.
Under the cold sheet.
Your aroma all over me.
Romantic music still playing on.
Last night, Our souls danced passionately.

~JasB

Soul is deep
Brain feels image
Storms are coming