Sonnet XXVIII: Soul-Light
What other woman could be loved like you,
Or how of you should love possess his fill?
After the fulness of all rapture, still,—
As at the end of some deep avenue
A tender glamour of day,—there comes to view
Far in your eyes a yet more hungering thrill,—
Such fire as Love's soul-winnowing hands distil
Even from his inmost ark of light and dew.
And as the traveller triumphs with the sun,
Glorying in heat's mid-height, yet startide brings
Wonder new-born, and still fresh transport springs
From limpid lambent hours of day begun;—
Even so, through eyes and voice, your soul doth move
My soul with changeful light of infinite love.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Forsaking My Love
I hate you
I wish to tear you away from me
This tumor that clings to my chest
The thing that makes me ache
That haunts my dreams
And tears at my desires
You have brought me only pain
My untamed heart
That beast that gnaws at my soul
That pitifully whines
Bringing my mind into unwanted pain
Yet how can I blame you
How can I chastise you when I listen intently to your pleas
Why should I punish you for what my eyes feed upon
How can I blame my eyes for falling upon her
She who brings light to the eternal darkness of my soul
She whose eyes bring me to subjection
Whose smile leaves me in awe
How can I blame you when my ears are met with her laughter
How they submerge into her song
How they quiver at her voice
Why should I punish you for inclining my soul
Tempting it with the one sense that has been forsaken by her
How could I look over the thought of the brushing of lips
The touching of hands
The binding of the soul, mind, and body
O you wretched heart
What am I to do with this constant companion
How could I tear you away
When she is the cause of my agony
Or rather
It is the lack of her which brings me sorrow
It is the need for her that leaves my heart in pain
Yet she is not mine
She was never mine
She will never be mine
O my poor heart
How can I make you see reason
When all you do is show me the truth
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poem by Michael Silver
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The Paradox
No lover saith, I love, nor any other
Can judge a perfect lover;
He thinks that else none can or will agree,
That any loves but he;
I cannot say I loved, for who can say
He was kill'd yesterday.
Love with excess of heat, more young than old,
Death kills with too much cold;
We die but once, and who loved last did die,
He that saith, twice, doth lie;
For though he seem to move, and stir a while,
It doth the sense beguile.
Such life is like the light which bideth yet
When the life's light is set,
Or like the heat which fire in solid matter
Leaves behind, two hours after.
Once I loved and died; and am now become
Mine epitaph and tomb;
Here dead men speak their last, and so do I;
Love-slain, lo! here I die.
poem by John Donne
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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A Loved Woman
A loved woman's heart is a new lit candle,
Incandescent fire bright,
Her lambent eyes are sparkling stars
Glowing through the blackest night.
A loved woman's walk is fairy footfall
Leaping through the air so light,
A loved woman's hair will catch the
moonbeams
And reflect celestial white.
A loved woman's laughter -- silver bells
Ringing in the twinkling foam,
Her soul will soar to the highest
heights
Of Heaven's vast and starry dome!
!
poem by Marian Hallet
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Saddest Poem
I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
Write, for instance: "The night is full of stars,
and the stars, blue, shiver in the distance."
The night wind whirls in the sky and sings.
I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
On nights like this, I held her in my arms.
I kissed her so many times under the infinite sky.
She loved me, sometimes I loved her.
How could I not have loved her large, still eyes?
I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
To think I don't have her. To feel that I've lost her.
To hear the immense night, more immense without her.
And the poem falls to the soul as dew to grass.
What does it matter that my love couldn't keep her.
The night is full of stars and she is not with me.
That's all. Far away, someone sings. Far away.
My soul is lost without her.
As if to bring her near, my eyes search for her.
My heart searches for her and she is not with me.
The same night that whitens the same trees.
We, we who were, we are the same no longer.
I no longer love her, true, but how much I loved her.
My voice searched the wind to touch her ear.
Someone else's. She will be someone else's. As she once
belonged to my kisses.
Her voice, her light body. Her infinite eyes.
I no longer love her, true, but perhaps I love her.
Love is so short and oblivion so long.
Because on nights like this I held her in my arms,
my soul is lost without her.
Although this may be the last pain she causes me,
and this may be the last poem I write for her.
poem by Pablo Neruda
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~ If Love Not Given ~
~ IF LOVE NOT GIVEN ~
Ms. Nivedita
UK
26.09.09
Why fire of tune
Ignite in my soul?
Why lulu love
Deluge you in my soul?
Why glittery starry garland
Decor you on my neck?
Why touch-travel
O’er my soul
Like rill breeze?
Why vermillion red
Nascent Sun God
Gander at me from east?
Why sway me
By bedecking smile
Like refulgent sky?
Why touch me
Like blooming buds
Smiling at me?
How I’ll embosom
Encrypt bind moor
Your vast euphony
Riches rapture rhapsodic
In my wee bosom
If love not given?
Your entire floral love décor
How I’ll keep wreath
If love not
Given in my soul?
Why keep me
Pale placid turbid
Instead florid limpid
If love not
Given in my soul
In towering
Pellucid teemingness?
If love not given…?
-----
Copyright reserved by the author
poem by Ms. Nivedita Bagchi Spc. Uk.
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This Little Place
The eyes of a dying man,
The eyes of sorrow to share with many;
the eyes of a dying woman,
The eyes of sadness to leave for many;
With the blinking of the eyes i do write my mind.
In homely places,
To fill the hungering hearts of men;
In weary of love,
To fill the hungering hearts of women;
Of old times from the sea of love to,
The burials of the dead gone by!
Like the flames of a fire to build up your love.
I have spoken,
I have written,
I have read;
Of the dreams and visions that grow plain to share.
How should i dine when no one buys?
How should i mourn when no one dies?
Hoe should i dig when no one plants?
How should i burry when no one dies?
Clear to all men's eyes,
This little place in me is left alone.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Fill Me With Your Love
But there are so many
Who dont know the reason
Their lives are wasting away
Just souls without purpose
They wonder in darkness
Without a thought for the day
Well, Im no savior
Im just a window
Through which your sweet love light can shine
So clean out the corners of my darkened pane
And fill me with your love again
Fill me with your love again
Fill me with your love again
I open my heart and soul for you to enter me
And fill me with your love again
Fill me with your love again
Fill me with your love again
I open my heart and soul for you to enter me
And fill me with your love again
I open my heart and soul for you to enter me
And fill me with your love again
song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Two Halves of a Soul (song)
A beautiful new spring day
The grass, new tender and green
The trees, sprouting new leaves
A small rose vine climes a tree
And flowers pedals of scarlet red
‘A crystal pond paces away
All the little golden sun perch
Enjoying its fresh sparkling waters
A flock of pure white swans
Swimming their graceful way
A perfect wedding, for a perfect love
As we hold our hands so tightly
And look so deep in each others eyes
We know the other is the one
The missing half of our loving soul
Two collared dove light in a tree
And coo a sincere love song
It sounds like it was written for us
As we walk this pedal sprinkled aisle
Pledge our vowls and say “I do”
A perfect wedding, for a perfect love
As we hold our hands so tightly
And look so deep in each others eyes
We know the other is the one
The missing half of our loving soul
poem by Britney Hogue
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Sonnet # 19
Romantic thoughts of you fill my head
I see them clearly when I close my eyes
A thousand letters that join together to create
The words I love you which play daily upon my mind
Your face I see many times a day
A treasure I shan't never let it go
For you have cast a spell upon me my love
Thy timeless beauty hath bewitched my heart and soul
Your eyes be an enchantment of magical delight
That has gotten hold of me
Priceless is thy smile thou doth possess
A shinning jewel in my mind you will always be
I cannot but help write the words your memory brings
For visions of thee doth force my pen to sing
poem by John A. Hancock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sometimes Love Hurts
(6/8/12)
Some time love hurts to a point you want to cry
You feel as if everything in you has begun to die
You try to fill it, but it's like shoveling sand against the tide.
I recall when I first saw you standing under the street light
My mind started jumping and my heart took flight.
I walked over to you and asked you your name
I didn't feel guilty and felt no shame.
Life is like a traffic light - it's a stop and go
First you move fast - then you move slow.
You had came to me with tears in your eyes
Because your loved one had said good-bye.
You never knew the feelings I had inside
It was something that I always tried to hide.
I see the pain etched in your face
There's no shame in crying, there's no disgrace.
But loving someone who doesn't love you
That is something that I knew.
You are the sun that rises in my soul
Being with you all of life unfolds
You are the water that quenches my thirst
You fill up my body to a point of burst.
Sometimes love hurts, and you feel as if your world is caving in
Just open up your mind and let me in.
I will show you what love is really about
Of that my love there is no doubt.
You see life is no good when you're alone
And every love you ever had, you had blown
So let him learn the aches and pains that you have gone thru
this is all that you can do.
Sometimes love hurts, but it doesn't have to
Because I am right here next to you.
poem by Louis Rams
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A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning
As virtuous men pass mildly away,
And whisper to their souls to go,
Whilst some of their sad friends do say,
"Now his breath goes," and some say, "No."
So let us melt, and make no noise,
No tear-floods, nor sigh-tempests move;
'Twere profanation of our joys
To tell the laity our love.
Moving of th' earth brings harms and fears;
Men reckon what it did, and meant;
But trepidation of the spheres,
Though greater far, is innocent.
Dull sublunary lovers' love
—Whose soul is sense—cannot admit
Of absence, 'cause it doth remove
The thing which elemented it.
But we by a love so much refined,
That ourselves know not what it is,
Inter-assurèd of the mind,
Care less, eyes, lips and hands to miss.
Our two souls therefore, which are one,
Though I must go, endure not yet
A breach, but an expansion,
Like gold to aery thinness beat.
If they be two, they are two so
As stiff twin compasses are two;
Thy soul, the fix'd foot, makes no show
To move, but doth, if th' other do.
And though it in the centre sit,
Yet, when the other far doth roam,
It leans, and hearkens after it,
And grows erect, as that comes home.
Such wilt thou be to me, who must,
Like th' other foot, obliquely run;
Thy firmness makes my circle just
And makes me end where I begun.
poem by John Donne
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Hearts First Word. I.
To sweeten a swift minute so
With such rare fragrance of sweet speech,
And make the after hours go
In a blank yearning each on each ;
To drain the springs till they be dry,
And then in anguish thirst for drink ;
So but to glimpse her robe thirst I,
And my soul hungers and I sink.
There is no word that we have said
Whereby the lips and heart arc fire;
No look the linked glances read
That held the springs of deep desire.
And yet the sounds her glad lips gave
Are on my soul vibrating still ;
Her eyes that swept me as a wave
Shine my soul's worship to fulfil.
Her hair, her eyes, her throat and chin-
Sweet hair, sweet eyes, sweet throat, so sweet,
So fair because the ways of sin
Have never known her perfect feet-
By what far ways and marvellous
May I such lovely heaven reach ?
What dread, dark seas and perilous
Lie 'twist love's silence and love's speech?
poem by Isaac Rosenberg
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Campaspe
Turn from the ways of this Woman! Campaspe we call her by name -
She is fairer than flowers of the fire -
she is brighter than brightness of flame.
As a song that strikes swift to the heart
with the beat of the blood of the South,
And a light and a leap and a smart, is the play of her perilous mouth.
Her eyes are as splendours that break in the rain at the set of the sun,
But turn from the steps of Campaspe - a Woman to look at and shun!
Dost thou know of the cunning of Beauty? Take heed to thyself and beware
Of the trap in the droop in the raiment - the snare in the folds of the hair!
She is fulgent in flashes of pearl, the breeze with her breathing is sweet,
But fly from the face of the girl - there is death in the fall of her feet!
Is she maiden or marvel of marble? Oh, rather a tigress at wait
To pounce on thy soul for her pastime - a leopard for love or for hate.
Woman of shadow and furnace! She biteth her lips to restrain
Speech that springs out when she sleepeth,
by the stirs and the starts of her pain.
As music half-shapen of sorrow, with its wants and its infinite wail,
Is the voice of Campaspe, the beauty at bay with her passion dead-pale.
Go out from the courts of her loving, nor tempt the fierce dance of desire
Where thy life would be shrivelled like stubble
in the stress and the fervour of fire!
I know of one, gentle as moonlight - she is sad as the shine of the moon,
But touching the ways of her eyes are: she comes to my soul like a tune -
Like a tune that is filled with faint voices
of the loved and the lost and the lone,
Doth this stranger abide with my silence: like a tune with a tremulous tone.
The leopard, we call her, Campaspe! I pluck at a rose and I stir
To think of this sweet-hearted maiden - what name is too tender for her?
poem by Henry Kendall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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From – Twenty Poems of Love
I can write the saddest lines tonight.
Write for example: ‘The night is fractured
and they shiver, blue, those stars, in the distance’
The night wind turns in the sky and sings.
I can write the saddest lines tonight.
I loved her, sometimes she loved me too.
On nights like these I held her in my arms.
I kissed her greatly under the infinite sky.
She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.
How could I not have loved her huge, still eyes.
I can write the saddest lines tonight.
To think I don’t have her, to feel I have lost her.
Hear the vast night, vaster without her.
Lines fall on the soul like dew on the grass.
What does it matter that I couldn’t keep her.
The night is fractured and she is not with me.
That is all. Someone sings far off. Far off,
my soul is not content to have lost her.
As though to reach her, my sight looks for her.
My heart looks for her: she is not with me
The same night whitens, in the same branches.
We, from that time, we are not the same.
I don’t love her, that’s certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the breeze to reach her.
Another’s kisses on her, like my kisses.
Her voice, her bright body, infinite eyes.
I don’t love her, that’s certain, but perhaps I love her.
Love is brief: forgetting lasts so long.
Since, on these nights, I held her in my arms,
my soul is not content to have lost her.
Though this is the last pain she will make me suffer,
and these are the last lines I will write for her.
poem by Pablo Neruda
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Were Love So Easy Everyone Could Love So
Were love so easy everyone could love so
But if love were easy it would be worth much less
So the hard thing to do is to love, and love show
So hard, that rarely our earthly soul is loved bless.
Just part of a soul, an inert soul that doth not move
To the symphony of color, the spirit of loving beauty
A virtue it is to move to love's most beautiful groove
And play the crimson flute, in the soul of symphony
Where this virtuous flute be, but in true love's hand
Far from me am encircled in an orb of sullen woe
Lost in a mundane web, aloof from love's mystic land
An alien world, my vice will never let me know
The rare thing we call love, a feeling so vast but brief
Love, the thing to heal our never ending grief….
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Cant Let Go
Maurice white, bill myers & allee willis
Love that is born in truth, all
The doubt removed--lovers eyes
Are blessed only sees the best--
I cant let go, of a love that
Grows, youre my woman. baby love
You know I love you, so
Empty hearts are free, bring,
Your love to me--soul chase the moon
Shadows, hug the room--turn off the
Light and sneak in bed at night--
Darkness shut its eyes, baby, i
Open mine to you
I cant let go, of a love that
Grows, youre my woman, baby love
You know I love you so
song performed by by Earth Wind And Fire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Urania's Lover.
O poet, thou art called to tread her ways,
Hers, mistress of the soul, Urania fair.
(Ah God! how fair, how all adorable,
But those who have wooed her can tell!)
All of thy nights and days,
All of thy light and air,
Hers only, so thy soul shall haply win
Grace in those eyes
That goddess-wise
Smile in that heaven man's highest have enter'd in.
Thou'rt called to Love's high hest, soul-wooer thou
Of the divinest beauty man may know —
Soul-wooer and soul-winner, so thy feet
Fail not nor falter, so earth's cheat
Clip not thy burning brow
With its chill wreath, and so
Darken the heavenly light within the brain;
But let thy forehead be
Starred with pure poesy,
So thou to her high mystery attain.
Thy love a Goddess and her heaven thy home!
By the ethereal beauty in those eyes,
O poet! bless the loss of all things here
So but thy soul in that fine sphere,
Beloved of her, may roam
No more with wandering cries —
At last may bow before her face, and be,
Though woman-born, divine,
When all of hers is thine,
And thou a star of God's ascendency.
Ah! through that heaven shall not the wonder trail
Of thy first worship, like a comet's hair
Leagues on leagues floating from the flying star?
Shall not thy first faint steps afar
Move like a being pale
Amid the glory there
Up to the voiceless beauty of her brow,
As thou dost see, as 'twere,
Thy whole life with her there —
See from that height the depth where thou art now?
poem by Robert Crawford
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Love's Light: The Philosopher at the Window
The eyes, it's said, are windows of the soul;
and when I see your eyes so sparkling bright,
I see there beauty, truth and goodness; all
as one; the radiance of an inner light.
But I who, standing, gaze though windows here:
what does my own soul see by its own light?
Is what is seen, seen through dark glass, or clear?
Is others' radiance that of my own sight?
Strange fact: the outward play's less bright, less clear
than what I see to shine in others' eyes;
there seems less love in me, from me; less dear
the loving, than the love I see and prize!
These windows teach clear lessons to my soul:
first see my own self's light, to see the whole.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Poetic Image of Love
A noble poet she writes her soul in prose
With mystical light weaving beauties light
Around her words a fiery light grows
On my heart it grasps its beauty tight
Her comely shape, a ladies coat of arms
Forever bears the tender heart of love
Drunk with her beauteous poisonous charms
Her soul covers mine like a perfectly fitted glove.
Her delicate ears for beauty to clearly hear
The melodious fire and fervor of my passion
For in my ears she is tender and dear
And by my ears her voice is love's fashion.
Dressed in gray, in a soft cashmere
Her majestic grandeur hides beneath her soft flesh
A soul of power, she draws one wet tear
Washing my eye, like the rain moistens a flower's petal fresh.
When she is grave my heart is buried deep
Drowning in anguish, in sadness's weary flood
Crying with tears, tears that should never weep
A vivid color crimson infects my loving blood
So keen is my love it sharpens the sword acute
It penetrates my heart, a heart struck awe
No words to say, an incessant love mute
In front of a queen, the most precious I ever saw.
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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A Hymn for Noon
The sun is swiftly mounted high;
It glitters in the southern sky;
Its beams with force and glory beat,
And fruitful earth is fill'd with heat.
Father, also with Thy fire
Warm the cold, the dead desire,
And make the sacred love of Thee
Within my soul a sun to me.
Let it shine so fairly bright
That nothing else be took for light,
That worldly charms be seen to fade,
And in its lustre find a shade.
Let it strongly shine within
To scatter all the clouds of sin,
That drive when gusts of passion rise
And intercept it from our eyes.
Let its glory more than vie
With the sun that lights the sky;
Let it swiftly mount in air,
Mount with that, and leave it there,
And soar with more aspiring flight
To realms of everlasting light.
Thus, while here I'm forc'd to be,
I daily wish to live with Thee,
And feel that union which Thy love
Will, after death, complete above.
From my soul I send my prayer;
Great creator, bow Thine ear;
Thou for whose propitious sway
The world was taught to see the day,
Who spake the word and earth begun
And show'd its beauties in the sun;
With pleasure I Thy creatures view,
And would with good affection, too,
Good affection sweetly free,
Loose from them and move to Thee;
O teach me due returns to give,
And to Thy glory let me live,
And then my days shall shine the more
Or pass more blessed than before.
poem by Thomas Parnell
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