Who, if I cried out, would hear me among the angels'
hierarchies? and even if one of them suddenly
pressed me against his heart, I would perish
in the embrace of his stronger existence.
For beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror
which we are barely able to endure and are awed
because it serenely disdains to annihilate us.
Each single angel is terrifying.
And so I force myself, swallow and hold back
the surging call of my dark sobbing.
......
I prefer red chile over my eggs
and potatoes for breakfast.
Red chile ristras decorate my door,
dry on my roof, and hang from eaves.
They lend open-air vegetable stands
historical grandeur, and gently swing
with an air of festive welcome.
I can hear them talking in the wind,
haggard, yellowing, crisp, rasping
tongues of old men, licking the breeze.
......
I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: 'Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear --
"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
......
A woman's face with Nature's own hand painted
Hast thou, the master-mistress of my passion;
A woman's gentle heart, but not acquainted
With shifting change, as is false women's fashion;
An eye more bright than theirs, less false in rolling,
Gilding the object whereupon it gazeth;
A man in hue, all hues in his controlling,
Which steals men's eyes and women's souls amazeth.
And for a woman wert thou first created,
Till Nature, as she wrought thee, fell a-doting,
......
No more, my dear, no more these counsels try;
Oh, give my passions leave to run their race;
Let Fortune lay on me her worst disgrace;
Let folk o'ercharg'd with brain against me cry;
Let clouds bedim my face, break in mine eye;
Let me no steps but of lost labour trace;
Let all the earth with scorn recount my case,
But do not will me from my love to fly.
I do not envy Aristotle's wit,
Nor do aspire to Caesar's bleeding fame;
......
In the distance, a small flame,
which warms my heart with a radiant glance through eyes that allow me to look into a soul,
A secret room that only I have been given
the only key to one lock of its kind.
Deep inside is where two hearts caress and passionately kiss
And recite a loves ballad.
A poem with no end but constant new beginnings
as our hearts find new ways of discovering each other
Like the frontiers of a universe with no end, like infinity itself.
......
Eagerly I scour the skies
For clouds dark and heavy
Awaiting the life giving winds
Pregnant with promises
So many secrets
Shared between you and me
Scorched by the summer heat
I lie withered , almost defeated
Fervently , silently awaiting
......
On a dull Monday morn
As I stare vacantly forlorn
A sight shocks me out of stupor
The Jacaranda blooming in splendor...
Tresses of vibrant purple
Forming a magnificent spectacle
Ever so gently swaying
Celebrating life, mocking
The scene subtle yet so sharp
Whirls me into a time warp..
......
"Soul meets soul on lovers' lips" – Percy Shelley
Soul mates.
Our connection was so pure,
Our hearts combined as if they were made for each other,
As if we were made for each other,
And when your hand
Meets mine,
That connection is only made stronger,
Your fingertips shock my skin with pure joy,
Your lips send a jolt through mine,
......
We are caught up in the middle, of our passionate love affair,
In a world still so young, sweet dreams can blossom anywhere!