Love Poems

[Penelope]

Saffron:

Lost as a light is lost in light.

I don't find this tragic, because of all the references to light. It is not talking about being lost in darkness. There are a lot of references to light.

It seems to me a supplication, a desire to achieve Nirvana. Which, I am told, is a feeling of bliss, of being at one. Apparently our word 'atonement' comes from this 'at one ment'.

It reminds me of that psalm.....As the hart panteth for water, so does my soul thirst for thee, Oh Lord.

Isn't it odd, how such a passionate poem can mean such different things to us? I suppose it has to do with where ones preoccupations lie.

[Saffron]

I don't find this tragic, because of all the references to light.....It seems to me a supplication, a desire to achieve Nirvana......It reminds me of that psalm.....As the hart panteth for water, so does my soul thirst for thee, Oh Lord.

Isn't it odd, how such a passionate poem can mean such different things to us? I suppose it has to do with where ones preoccupations lie.

I suspect, Penny, that you have read the poem closer to Teasdale's intentions. I definitely read this poem as a reach toward a spiritual release of self. However, I think the poem works on both planes; the spiritual and the mundane. In fact one informs the other. What I mean is that passion and sexual love in its most mature form is spiritual. In my post I was only pointing out some of pit falls of striving toward the desire to merge; striving without awareness or intention.

[Penelope]

Saffron, I suspect you and I both know the desire to be completely united with another person. As in the marriage ceremony where it says ' these two become as 'one flesh'. How wonderful that would be....

I don't know that it works......except to make us dissatisfied when we find it doesn't.

I am thinking of that song.....This time we 'almost' made it.

Didn't we 'almost' make it....this time. I often would like to sing that to my beloved...but he would be horrified....

[Penelope]

This time we almost made the pieces fit,
Ah, didn't we, girl?
This time we almost made some sense of it,
Ah, didn't we, girl?
This time I had the answer,
Right here in my hand.
Then I touched it and,
It had turned to sand.

This time we almost sang our song in tune,
Ah, didn't we, girl?
This time we almost made it to the moon,
Ah, didn't we?
This time, we almost made,
Our poem rhyme.
Yes, and this time we almost made,
That long hard climb.

Didn't we almost make it?
Didn’t we almost take it, baby?
Didn’t we almost make it this time?

[Thomas Hood]

Saffron said: Nice post, Penny.

At last, you have called me by the name that my friends call me.

Are you watching this Thomas Hood.....

But I like 'Penelope' -- so classical!

Isn't there a new little pink one in your life now? Yesterday was the due date. Hope for the best.

Tom

[Penelope]

Tom:-

Yesterday was the due date. Hope for the best.

No new arrival yet...obviously laid-back like her Grandma!

Thanks Tom!!!!

[Saffron]

Here is an unusual love poem by Gerard Manley Hopkins (cira June 1864). A playful, comic poem about keeping infatuation in check. The first line almost forms a double entendre, as we generally think of school girl/boy crushes as being the ones we are too embarrassed to admit or come at too vulnerable an age to confess.

She Schools The Flighty Pupils Of Her Eyes

She schools the flighty pupils of her eyes,
With levell'd lashes stilling their disquiet;
She puts in leash her pair'd lips lest suprise
Bare the condition of a realm at riot.
If he suspect that she has ought to sigh at
His injury she'll avenge with raging shame.
She kept her love-thoughts on most lenten diet,
And learnt her not to startle at his name.

[Penelope]

Lovely poem Saffron:

Manley Hopkins was a man!! How did he know I wonder!!

She kept her love-thoughts on most lenten diet,
And learnt her not to startle at his name.

She wasn't a 'blusher' then......which is what always gave the game away for me.

[Saffron]

Lovely poem Saffron:

Manley Hopkins was a man!! How did he know I wonder!!

She kept her love-thoughts on most lenten diet,
And learnt her not to startle at his name.

She wasn't a 'blusher' then......which is what always gave the game away for me.

I had the same thought: how did he know?! I'm a blusher too, I can't hide anything.

[Saffron]

Oh, I haven't the patience to go through all the pages to see if I have already posted these two poems -- I just want to post them and if they are repeats, forgive me.

First -- I like the second stanza of this poem. I like to think about the voices of the people I like and love. Thinking about the way someone sounds brings that person right up close and vivid.

The Barrier
by Claude McKay

I must not gaze at them although
Your eyes are dawning day;
I must not watch you as you go
Your sun-illumined way;

I hear but I must never heed
The fascinating note,
Which, fluting like a river reed,
Comes from your trembing throat;

I must not see upon your face
Love's softly glowing spark;
For there's the barrier of race,
You're fair and I am dark.

And second, an all time favorite poem --

Wild Nights – Wild Nights! (249)
by Emily Dickinson

Wild Nights – Wild Nights!
Were I with thee
Wild Nights should be
Our luxury!

Futile – the winds –
To a heart in port –
Done with the compass –
Done with the chart!

Rowing in Eden –
Ah, the sea!
Might I moor – Tonight –
In thee!