Man Thinking About Woman

[Miriam1]

some thing is lost in me,

like

the way you lose old thoughts.....that

somehow seemd unlost at the right time.

 

i've not known it or you many days;

we met as friends with an absence of strangeness.

it was the month

that my lines got longer & my metaphors softer.

 

 

it was the week that

i felt the city's narrow breezes rush about

me

looking for a place to disappear

as......i walked the clearway,

sure footed in used sandals screaming to be replaced

 

your empty shoes (expect for used stockings)

partially hidden beneath the dresser

looked at me,

as i sat thoughtlessly......waiting

for your touch.

 

that day,

as your body rested upon my chest

i saw the shadow of the

window blinds......beam

across the unpainted ceiling

going somewhere

like the somewhere i was going

when

the clearness of yr/teeth,

& the scars on yr/legs stopped me.

 

your beauty: un-noticed by regular eyes...... is

like......a blackbird resting

on a telephone wire......that moves

quitetly with the wind

 

 

a southwind

 

By Don L. Lee

___________________________________________

 

hey. This is one of my favorite poems...the dots are meant as the spaces put between the words in the poem itself..but for some reason, the spaces disappear when u post it up here..hope u enjoy it.

[Miriam1]

Song of the Soul

by Gibran Khalil Gibran

 

 

In the depth of my soul there is

A wordless song - a song that lives

In the seed of my heart.

It refuses to melt with ink on

Parchment; it engulfs my affection

In a transparent cloak and flows,

But not upon my lips.

 

How can I sigh it? I fear it may

Mingle with earthly ether;

To whome shall I sing it? It dwells

In the house of my soul, in fear of

Harsh ears.

 

When I look into my inner eyes

I see the shadow of its shadow;

When I touch my fingertips

I feel its vibrations.

 

The deeds of my hands heed its

Presence as a lake must reflect

The glittering stars; my tears

Reveal it, as bright drops of dew

Reveal the secret of a withering rose.

 

It is a song composed by contemplation,

And published by silence,

And shunned by clamour,

And folded by truth,

And repeated by dreams,

And understood by love,

And hidden by awakening,

And sung by the soul.

 

It is the song of love;

What Cain or Esau could sing it?

 

It is more fragrant than jasmine;

What voice could enslave it?

 

It is heartbound, as a virgin's secret;

What string could quiver it?

 

Who dares unite the roar of the sea

And the singing of the nightingale?

Who dares compate the shrieking tempest

To the sigh of an infant?

Who dares speak aloud the words

Intended for the heart to speak?

What human dares sing in voice

The song of God?

[Miriam1]

by Gibran Khalil Gibran

 

 

TEARS AND LAUGHTER

 

Upon the bank of the nile at eventide, a hyena met a crocodile and they stopped and

greeted one another.

 

The hyena spoke and said, "How goes the day with you, Sir?" And the crocodile

answered saying, "It goes badly with me.

 

Sometimes in my pain and sorrow I weep, and then the creatures always say, 'They are

but crocodile tears.' And this wounds me beyond all telling."

 

Then the hyena said, "You speak of your pain and your sorrow, but think of me also, for

a moment.

 

I gaze at the beauty of the world, its wonders and its miracles, and out of sheer joy I

laugh even as the day laughs.

 

And then the people of the jungle say, 'It is but the laughter of a hyena.'

[Tuujiye]

Love by Gibran Khalil Gibran

 

Then said Almitra, Speak to us of Love.

 

 

And he raised his head and looked upon the people,

and there fell a stillness upon them. And with a

great voice he said:

 

When love beckons to you, follow him,

 

Though his ways are hard and steep.

 

And when his wings enfold you yield to him,

 

Though the sword hidden among his pinions may

wound you.

 

And when he speaks to you believe in him.

 

Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the

north wind lays waste the garden.

 

For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you.

Even as he is for your growth so is he for your

pruning.

 

Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your

tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,

 

So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in

their clinging to the earth.

 

Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.

 

He threshes you to make you naked.

 

He sifts you to free you from your husks.

 

He grinds you to whiteness.

 

He kneads you until you are pliant;

 

And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you

may become sacred bread for God's sacred feast.

 

All these things shall love do unto you that you may

know the secrets of your heart, and in that

knowledge become a fragment of Life's heart.

 

But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace

and love's pleasure.

 

Then it is better for you that you cover your

nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor,

 

Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but

not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of

your tears.

 

Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but

from itself.

 

Love possesses not nor would it be possessed;

 

For love is sufficient unto love.

 

When you love you should not say, 'God is in my

heart, 'but rather, 'I am in the heart of God.'

 

And think not you can direct the course of love, for

love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.

 

Love has no other desire but to fulfil itself.

 

But if you love and must needs have desires, let

these be your desires:

 

To melt and be like a running brook that sings its

melody to the night.

 

To know the pain of too much tenderness.

 

To be wounded by your own understanding of love;

 

And to bleed willingly and joyfully.

 

To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give

thanks for another day of loving;

 

To rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy;

 

To return home at eventide with gratitude;

 

And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in

your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.

[Tuujiye]

Good and Evil by Gibran Khalil Gibran ( I like this one)

 

And one of the elders of the city said,

Speak to us of Good and Evil.

 

And he answered:

 

Of the good in you I can speak, but not of the evil.

 

For what is evil but good tortured by its own hunger

and thirst?

 

Verily when good is hungry it seeks food even in

dark cavest and when it thirsts it drinks even of

dead waters.

 

You are good when you are one with yourself.

 

Yet when you are not one with yourself you are not

evil.

 

For a divided house is not a den of thieves; it is only

a divided house.

 

And a ship without rudder may wander aimlessly

among perilous isles yet sink not to the bottom.

 

You are good when you strive to give of yourself.

 

Yet you are not evil when you seek gain for yourself.

 

For when you strive for gain you are but a root that

clings to the earth and sucks at her breast.

 

Surely the fruit cannot say to the root, 'Be like me,

ripe and full and ever giving of your abundance.'

 

For to the fruit giving is a need, as receiving is a

need to the root.

 

You are good when you are fully awake in your

speech.

 

Yet you are not evil when you sleep while your

tongue staggers without purpose.

 

And even stumbling speech may strengthen a weak

tongue.

 

You are good when you walk to your goal firmly

md with bold steps.

 

Yet you are not evil when you go thither limping.

 

Even those who limp go not backwards.

 

But you who are strong and swift, see that you do

not limp before the lame, deeming it kindness.

 

You are good in countless ways, and you are not evil

when you are not good.

 

You are only loitering and sluggard.

 

Pity that the stags cannot teach swiftness to the

turtles.

 

In your longing for your giant self lies your

goodness: and that longing is in all of you.

 

But in some of you that longing is a torrent rushing

with might to the sea, carrying the secrets of the

hillsides and the songs of the forest.

 

And in others it is a flat stream that loses itself in

angles and bends and lingers before it reaches the

shore.

 

But let not him who longs much say to him who

longs little, 'Wherefore are you slow and halting?'

 

For the truly good ask not the naked, 'Where is your

garment?' nor the houseless, 'What has befallen

your house?'