"yokan" poems
Love is rarely ever found, (I found you)
Instead,
Love is built. (We've built so much)
Built with a solid foundation,
Built with a design in mind,
Built with strong materials,
Love is built with hard work. (Sweat and sacrifice)
with willingness to sacrifice,
to be hurt.
Upholding one another
at our worsts. (Our hearts are strong enough)
Love isn't taken, but grown, (We've grown together)
Starting as a seed.
Nurtured in the rains
and sunlight
of life.
Roots strong enough not
to be uprooted by fiends. (I'll never leave you)
Delicate and tenderly, slow and steady.
Flourishing branches (We have flourished)
upholding the weight of grown love. (We've grown together)
Jul 21, 2016
Jul 21, 2016 at 6:13 PM UTC
~
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!
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 1:28 AM UTC
our story is that we met when we were young
and that we were introduced by a friend of a friend
and that we never thought we'd end up together
because you had her and I wasn't half as beautiful as her.
but my side of the story speaks that
from the moment I've seen you
months and months
before we even met,
I was sure I would fall in love with you.
even when I knew you had her
and she had you
and that no one can replace her in your heart,
I believed that time will bring us together;
that the lacuna inside me
will be filled with your love;
and I was right.
(i have never been that right)
your story is that you liked me from the start
and that you still like me.
my story is that I reserved my love for you
even before I knew your name
and that I would still reserve some for you
even now that we're done
just in case
just in case
you choose me again
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 5:24 AM UTC
[31 October]
I've always had this guy of my dream—the guy I wish I had, and the guy I wish I'd have. And you, you are like a dream came true when you walked in. You are everything I have and could ever ask for. You make me want to love when I don't even want to look at someone twice. Maybe me have met before—maybe before this year, or before this life. Maybe my heart has always fallen for you before. Maybe that's why you're everything I could ever wish for.
I don't know if we're going to end up with each other, but I wish we will—cause my dear, you're the one I want to live my dreams with.
And if we don't, that's okay. I'll still wish for you in another life.
—l.m
Dec 4, 2015
Dec 4, 2015 at 12:24 AM UTC
Comedian's obsidian,
In this middle,
Meridian.
Koi No Yokan
Did it again,
But this time I'm not
Winning and,
Somewhere between
The *** and friends,
Lies the best Me
I have been.
The falling star,
The wishes sent,
Into the void,
We do pretend.
And in the middle,
Some obscure riddle
Do it again.
Do it again.
Jan 31, 2013
Jan 31, 2013 at 2:39 AM UTC
This is about the state of heart,
Like when I feel Koi No Yokan and I just know that this is real.
Perhaps it will last this time?
In the past, I have experienced nothing but Saudade and La Douleur Exquise.
Unrequited love? That doesn't even get to the heart of it.
Every time I see him, it's as if I'm experiencing Retrouvailles all over again.
Finally, I, the Ilunga, gave up, but something about this time
Makes me incredibly willing
To let pain through my doors again.
Is it love?
Is it lust?
All I really want is for a Cafuné
And butterflies from our Mamihlapinatapei when I desperately want to kiss him.
Maybe it was a Yuanfen
Or God's intervention.
Maybe one day I will tell him, "Ya'aburnee"
Or perhaps one day he will tell that to me.
All I really know, is that this euphoria is explained through one simple word:
Forelsket.
Jun 28, 2013
Jun 28, 2013 at 3:17 PM UTC
The day we first met
It was koi no yokan
You were a mountain
I wanted to move
You kissed me two times
The first I was scared
The second, I felt it
I knew it was love
You taught me a lot
I learned to let go
Don't pick up flowers
Let them... Let them grow
Oct 2, 2013
Oct 2, 2013 at 10:50 PM UTC
Forelsket
Hurts like a *****
It's la Douleur Exquise
Wishing I'd never known
Koi No Yokan
Apr 25, 2013
Apr 25, 2013 at 1:02 AM UTC