Do before you say “I do”

Do it first.

Then you will be more

Confident in saying “I do.”

Because you will know

What to expect.

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The Madness of Love

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There were those who never found love, my darling,

Who opposed our union and pronounced every evil wish,

One after another – upon us.

But O my, we would laugh.

It all adds up to the madness of love.

 

The smile in your face wakes me

From life’s terrible nightmares.

Your voice and touch, so gentle but electrifying.

We would hold each other tight – laughter and whispers.

In the morning we will sit by the sea – half nude.

 

And watch the passing flock of swans across the yellow glowing sun.

We would drink cheap wine to celebrate our new found love.

Those who are still sane and therefore single,

They will be consumed by their narcissism.

Love puts a check on self-love.

 

I See You

hearder image

I see you.

In the midst of thousands of sayers,

I see you.

I only pretend I am not looking but

I see you.

You speak of homes and pools and flowers.

You speak of pain, sorrow and disappointments.

Still, you shine like a diamond.

I just don’t know what to say to you;

(I enjoy your photos).

Maybe we can begin with a dialogue

And see where the road leads.

No one can compete with you

For my attention.

 

Heine’s “Night Lay Upon My Eyelids”

image source: deviantart.com

image source: deviantart.com

Night lay upon my eyelids,
About my lips earth clave;
With stony heart and forehead
I lay within my grave.

How long I cannot reckon,
I slept in that strait bed;
I woke and heard distinctly
A knocking overhead.

“Wilt thou not rise, my Henry?
The eternal dawn is here;
The dead have re-arisen,
Immortal bliss is near.”

“I cannot rise, my darling,
I am blinded to the day.
Mine eyes with tears, thou knowest,
Have wept themselves away.”

“Oh, I will kiss them, Henry,
Kiss from thine eyes the night.
Thou shalt behold the angels
And the celestial light.”

“I cannot rise, my darling,
My blood is still outpoured
Where thou didst wound my heart once
With sharp and cruel word.”

“I’ll lay my hand, dear Henry,
Upon thy heart again.
Then shall it cease from bleeding.
And stilled shall be its pain.”

“I cannot rise, my darling,
My head is bleeding–see!
I shot myself, thou knowest,
When thou wast reft from me.”

“Oh, with my hair, dear Henry,
I’ll staunch the cruel wound,
And press the blood-stream backward;
Thou shalt be whole and sound.”

So kind, so sweet she wooed me,
I could not say her nay;
I tried to rise and follow,
And clasp my loving may.

Then all my wounds burst open,
From head and breast outbreak
The gushing blood in torrents–
And lo, I am awake!

–Heinrich Heine

 

Love Is Strange

In most cases,

The person you are madly in love with

Is not likely to feel anything for you.

On the other hand,

The person you don’t  find attractive –

Whom you hardly notice.

That’s the one willing to die with you.

Love, really, is a very strange thing.

And it often comes with some tragedy –

You remember Romeo and Juliet, don’t you?

Perhaps that’s why the heart beats faster

And the throat tightens and we tremble.

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N: I read this somewhere and I think it worked for me: “Love is the affinity experienced between two people who are naturally able and willing to tune into one another’s emotional, intellectual, and physical states – and respond to them in a nurturing and a stimulating way.

Brave Heart

image source: theroseman.net

image source: theroseman.net

 

The best way to teach someone

How to love is to love him or her.

It is interesting….

When was the last time you heard someone

 

Tell her husband or indeed his wife,

“Hey! you are not loving me enough.”

People don’t normally say that,

But you can tell they are hurting inside.

 

We all yearn for love

But no one asks for more love

Because the pain is greater

When denied.

 

And maybe many people have chosen

Singlehood because they

Are not brave enough to

Risk loving others.

Love Is Not Blind

LOVE copy

Love sees everything.

But it is interested in that which feels good.

So love is not blind as is popularly believed. Love sees.

There was a rich but ill-mannered young man

And a poor but beautiful well-behaved girl.

When they fell in love, you couldn’t tell

They came from two different worlds.

But he knew she was poor and

She knew he was ill-mannered.

Love is not blind. Love sees!

N: See my other poems here:  http://www.kalaharireview.com/fictionpoetry/2013/12/2/little-wall-gecko-others.html