Tag Archives: #hearts

BUT NOT SORROW

But not sorrow to the bitter death of indigence, to which they are made to follow.

Without sacrifice to any deity.

But let us never underestimate that the more an occasion’s good will works, the more ruin is allayed.

Meanwhile, turn them out, then, by sea or land,–

that the servant of science might discover nothing.

What about other powerful vampire authors such as Daniel Defoe and Lord Byron, in addition to Shelley?

(At first sight, a good way to read the book of Revelation, was to think of their “visionaries” who took it to be a description of the original creation, with humans first emerging at the very beginning. It was not clear from the account of the Fall in 2 Peter, how it was even possible to have had the Fall at all.)

:: 08.31.2021 ::


IF YOU LOVE ME THIS MUCH

What have I said about our being soon together? It is to be believed–I hope?
Oh, what shall I do? What shall I say to you? . . . What a drama that was! . . . What sorrow! What a struggle! . . . Let’s not quarrel. May we not look only at each other for the next few days–rather let us drink in the smile of another face–let us speak so much that we forget ourselves and know of one another–there can be no sorrow, and no conflict, between friendship and love–Be so affectionate with one another as to command the two horses which are at our command to walk at a good rate–may we be only an ordinary pair of travelers, who will so walk, who will speak of ordinary things–may we have no crises, no pain, no affliction, no complaints–may we walk, walk and talk, walk and talk with one another–and thus never part–that is all I ask of you now–only to be with me–to love me with all your heart, with all your soul and with all your mind.

If you love me this much, this is enough, it’s enough, is it not? There is no room for anything else, if you love me.

I hope and desire that you love me as much as I do. If you cannot love me, I will never allow you to act in that way. If you have some special love for me, I shall always know it. I hope you will come as quickly as possible–that is what I desire. In return, let me tell you: it’s not that I want you to go away from me; I can always go with you–because I feel safe with you–you are the only sure security for my peace of mind. If you were no longer my confidant, my protector and my friend, I should not care a damn for myself.

Friend, you are the only great woman in my life. I have no one else. You are the mother of my dreams, the model of my life, the only model of my life–and you know it; I have only my home, a ruined country, as far as the edge of a dreaming frontier, from which to express my unhappiness. Oh, how I would be glad, if I could, to choose a woman–a wife!–just for myself–a good woman, rich in virtues and great respectability–but, alas, that is of no interest to me. I will not take advantage of your good nature to seek out other women. This is the limit of my sacrifice. I want no other joy. I don’t need them. I am not seeking something for myself, no–it’s that no one else should love me as you do, as I do you.

:: 08.07.2021 ::


TODAY IS A DAY OF PAIN

BETWEEN seconds i find myself focused
upon all that i have learned :
— how silence helps me remember
everything i am become –>
: and i feel memories and now and here
the promises of those from the past
(and how i remember everything from
the now) Almost everyone i know has passed
and how those i love are in dirt
or burned as ashes my sweetest loves
and everyone i know goes away in the end
— how i grab your heart.
How life turns a soul and tries to kill
it all away: but now i am away i see
how everyone i knew is so sweet and how
i love my my many friends
what i have become and how everyone
passess in the end. How we love history
and how we hide masks and crown of thorns
of broken thoughts. We hide a face and
still i am right here. How everyone goes
and slips away in shadows and how i love
how i could start again and keep myself
safe i would find a way.

:: 07.10.2021 ::


THE VORTEX OF LIFE

AND what is a friendship without warm feelings and devotion?
As those who go to and fro from bed to work without
a gentle smile or hello!
I would share a drink with you but first i must be sure
the label is not high alcohol but a label that reads either:
“life,” or “death.”
As the sun dips behind Mother Earth we eat and clean ourselves
then ready for bed. We read, watch something on the magic box
called television or stare at the walls. Some dream, some smoke,
some drink, some fight. Who is mad? All of us! Call it what you like
but the moral of that is — ‘Oh, ’tis love, ’tis love, that makes
the world goes round!’

Our human intentions only make matters worse!

Then the turtle spoke: “Those lovers we read about: to all the characters
drawing in colourful lines… you keep emotions at an anchor deep inside so
you can move far above the bubbles’ tricks — but the people swimming in
fish-glasses are freaked out. So many lives spilled, even all living simple
souls, cannot sustain the waters of love.

:: 04.22.2021 ::


YOU ARE HERE WITH ME

I want you to know
one thing. You know how this is: if i look at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window, if i touch near the fire the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log, everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists, aromas, light, metals,
were little boats that sail toward those isles of yours that wait for me.
Well, now, if little by little you stop loving me I shall stop loving you little by little.
If suddenly you forget me do not look for me, for I shall already have forgotten you.
If you think it long and mad, the wind of banners that passes through my life,
and you decide to leave me at the shore of the heart where I have roots,
remember that on that day, at that hour, I shall lift my arms and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But if each day, each hour, you feel that you are destined for me with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower climbs up to your lips to seek me, ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated, in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved, and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.

Those moments when your heart stops beating for me like the moment when I first stepped
on the moon, the time I got a colostomy— those moments are what I treasure most,
the flow of blood in my veins, the enveloping of my heart.
I have been longing since the first night that I spoke to you.

My body had always been content, and had always had the sound of your laughter.
In the first thousand times that I touched your hand, I kept them still.
I could feel my body, I could feel the blood flow, I could even feel my heart pumping,
and still I could not say a word.
And I still do not know why.
Now I always speak. Now I am not content, I feel more pain.
My tears freeze like those on the glass of a window, like tiny crystals of ice.
Now my body is not content, in my mind and heart not in my soul.
Perhaps there are moments when I know that your love for me is more
than I can bear.
Perhaps it is in the hour when I see my life descending,
when I smell the last breath of summer, when the daily walk on the river takes me far from you,
perhaps it is in these moments that I cry for you.
And as long as you hear me, as long as I am alive, my tears are filled with your blood.
Sometimes in my heart, I am so full that I burst, and I think that my heart has come to an end,
and I understand, through my tears, that you are the one who is dearer to me
than I am to myself.

At that moment my heart feels as if I am one of those saplings that have roots in the earth,
and as long as your love does not die, your roots will not die either.
That is the truth. And if the day comes when my roots set off to find you, and your love dies,
my life will come to an end, and I hope that at that moment even if my heart is in pieces,
the sound of your laughter will echo in my mind, and it will say “I remember.”

Nothing in this world can make me happy.
Nothing in this world can calm my fears.
I am never happy. I am always in pain.
I have tried for many years to find the way through the darkness
and the cold, but my soul cannot accept it.
And there is no escape.
I dream of something that will make me happy, and I wake up and find myself with my heart in my hand.
And I can not cry for happiness, and I cannot cry for death.

I cannot cry for the things that I love.
I cannot cry for the things that I have lost.
I cannot cry because I am afraid.
And so I cry, and I weep, and I am weak, and I am so very alone,
but I cry and I weep, because you are not there, and I do not know
what is right.

I have tried to love and to hate, to live and to die, but I cannot understand
or love or hate.

You are not there with me, in my love, in my hate.

You are not there in the sea.
You are not there in the sky.

I walk in a place where no one knows me.
I walk in a place where no one needs me.
I walk in a place where no one can hear me.
I walk in a place where I do not fit,
I walk in a place where I have no place to stay.

But I have so much love, and I have so much pain.

And still, I will not let you go.

You are so near to me, so near.

I cannot run.
I cannot hide.
I will not let you go.
I cannot explain.
I will not explain.
I will not cry.
I will not cry.
I will not cry.

You are not there.
You are there.
You are there.
In my mind.
In my heart.
In my soul.
In my very soul.
You are there, with me.

:: 02.25.2021 ::


SO NOW

so now

That the Iris opens her eyes upon early morning sun
that the wind dances her showy flowers and is luck
the lost voice of forgotten lovers?

some Not

when wind forgets its dance and green devours
(feelings) by nature’s beauty shall the fisherMen
of hearts sail from continent to unknown places;
their gravely instilled by amorous desire.

some NullAS not would never go there.

:: 01.21.2021 ::


FOURTEEN

i wish I had more time and opportunity to explain my disgust to your rust-stained sarcophagus. To offer a calm palate of meditative colors for our feelings (why not) — you seemed so surprised to be called from a glass prison.

Oh, blessed crystal, what do I have to do to kiss your hand with a succulent kiss for you have forgotten the grain of truth to your rust-stained sarcophagus!

To offer a calm palate of meditative colors for our feelings (why not) — you seemed so surprised to be called from a glass prison.

Oh, blessed crystal, what do I have to do to kiss your hand with a succulent kiss for you have forgotten the grain of truth and your heart could only love the person who feeds it for nourishment — is a difficult task; so you resorted to Cupid’s slingshot!
But here’s an alternative: follow my heart down the garden path, until my sticky feet block the entrance of Cupid’s grave.

Here — get me the jar of colorful paint and I will show you the
sparkle of love.

Here — get me the fork and I will show you the flavor of our love
that came from one man.

Here — get me the ball and I will smash it across my canvas of life.
Here — get me the pencil and I will draw you a gentle, tender picture.
Here — get me the jar of colorful paint and I will show you the
sparkle of love.
Here — get me the fork and I will show you the flavor of our love
that came from one man.
Here — get me the ball and I will smash it across my canvas of life.
Here — get me the pencil and I will draw you a gentle, tender picture.
Here — get me the paint bucket and I will lay it on a canvas of life

It was exactly 14 days since you told me you left the store early.
14 dreary days and I do not think you’ve been here once (not that I
would blame you for believing it).

14 days since I was mean to you, and then you said you’d be back
by 14.

:: 12.24.2020 ::


SUN AGAINST THE NIGHT

The nasty dark night ate the sun!

The farmers wailed against the dim moon,

“Be sane, or make it otherwise!”

Yesterday i awoke with a torn brain

against lover’s thousand acidic eyes

ripped apart by dying beds.

My screaming wish held but just Ourselves–
and Immortality.

:: 12.21.2020 ::


REFLECTION OF LOVE

As my sensational sensual moments bleed away and are no more seen by the vilest minds
my face deep within the riches of Earth’s soil away from unthought wars!
Unburdened by high wilt of human rine–
as pure Love has championed over darkly love.

And smallest voices as new born children spiritually cries of Spring keeping new born
butterflies afloat, is where Love strives
as droll god-beasts!

Such is the dance of perception as a reflection
through a prism; or early morning dew drop.

Time that not be for us — as purple roses
are sweeter to the but for me: deeper!

:: 12.21.2020 ::


WITHIN MY ALL “DREAM”

CRU
SHINATELY

AIN

CRU
SHINATELY

is  Godless 

PUR __ ,
pose
AS WORDS that cry
and break SILENCE ——
(endbegi ndesginb ecend)tang
lesp
ang
le
s
of EnteralL i ght
WE eat blood and flesh
2 B e per Fect
PAIN IN OUR H8ARTS

LO ve
Lit(
-tling-
for souls
of) ! (a. Sprit because we
Adore Birds for they sing
our SONG —–
Y & es
(all from the e
ter.

 nal.  Universe.

KEEPSUMMERGROWINGBEAUTIFULFLOWERS
OFLOVE

:: 11.21.2020 :