I LIVE BY THESE WORDS
Invictus
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
-William Ernest Henley
OLD POEM COLLECTION 1
A Perfect Ending
At the close of our day,
I linger in your eyes,
Lost in the moment,
Cherishing your touch.
Kissing, your tongue with mine,
Teasing me, exciting me, making me ache,
Wanting you to take me right then.
I lay back, pleading without words,
Breathless with anticipation,
As you stand over me, taunting,
Making me wait, admiring what you’ve done.
Anxious, I raise my hips to greet your stare,
Beckoning you to enter me,
As if the lips hidden there
Could speak for me, to some other part of you.
Finally, you grant me relief,
Embedding my being,
My feet upon your chest to brace us both,
As you thrust deep inside, again and again.
You reach places within me,
I thought were untouchable,
The pain hurting so good,
That I can’t help but cry out.
You wonder, if possibly you are hurting me,
Easing momentarily, but then I say, “don’t stop”,
And you know my whimpers are from ecstasy,
As I call you back into our entrancing dance.
My eyes are open to catch you,
As you’re stealing satisfaction with your own,
Taking pride in knowing it is you,
That has caused these looks to come across my face,
Demonstrating to you, your power over me.
And then you say, “Oh Lady”,
As you gaze at me dreamily,
Shaking your head, as in disbelief,
Shyly grinning, revealing to me my own power
To make you feel alive.
I know you are close to leaving me,
Traveling to that place I can not follow,
And I ask you not to go,
Trying with all my might to make you stay,
Requesting, “easy, wait”, as I push you to your back,
Climbing atop you.
Then ever so carefully, I navigate you once again,
To the edge of your own heaven,
As I find that perfect rhythm of my own,
Barely breathing.
And as I start to throb, I become the one
Who can not be stopped from taking flight,
As I ride you wildly, beyond the realms of night,
Into my own promised land.
And returning to earth,
I find to my delight,
You, also coming back to ground,
From a visit to a paradise,
That we both, together, found.
U.P. Night Ride
Was surrounded by Lovers
On this cold, dark night
Hands going all over their partner’s body
One shoots a kiss
Another a sweet smile
I felt something strange
Sent shivers down my spine
Alienated
On this Jeepney ride
The Slow ‘Mo
Was in the mood to do my laundry
At a very early morning – 1am
Gathered my socks and undergarments
And soaked ‘em with fabric conditioner for a final swim
Time to hang them up
And let the morning breeze kiss them
As I get my last pair of socks to join the crew,
I slipped on the floor, not as quick as I imagined
But like a scene edited for a show,
In a funny slow ‘mo.
MAYA ANGELOU’S BEST POEM EVER
| A good friend of mine shared this beautiful poem to me in the office. I just want to share it with you – fellow Women and to all you guys’ women ^_^
MAYA ANGELOU’S BEST POEM EVER
A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ….. A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE .. A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE … A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ….. A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE …. A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE …. A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE … A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE .. EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW… EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW… EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW… EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW… EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW… EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW… EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW.. . EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW… EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW… |
Pablo Neruda’s fave 104
Sonnet XVII
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way
than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
Pablo Neruda’s fave 103
If You Forget 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.
Pablo Neruda
Pablo Neruda’s fave 102
I Crave Your Mouth, Your Voice, Your Hair
Don’t go far off, not even for a day, because —
because — I don’t know how to say it: a day is long
and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station
when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.
Don’t leave me, even for an hour, because
then the little drops of anguish will all run together,
the smoke that roams looking for a home will drift
into me, choking my lost heart.
Oh, may your silhouette never dissolve on the beach;
may your eyelids never flutter into the empty distance.
Don’t leave me for a second, my dearest,
because in that moment you’ll have gone so far
I’ll wander mazily over all the earth, asking,
Will you come back? Will you leave me here, dying?
Pablo Neruda’s fave 101
From – Twenty Poems of Love
I can write the saddest lines tonight.
Write for example: ‘The night is fractured
and they shiver, blue, those stars, in the distance’
The night wind turns in the sky and sings.
I can write the saddest lines tonight.
I loved her, sometimes she loved me too.
On nights like these I held her in my arms.
I kissed her greatly under the infinite sky.
She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.
How could I not have loved her huge, still eyes.
I can write the saddest lines tonight.
To think I don’t have her, to feel I have lost her.
Hear the vast night, vaster without her.
Lines fall on the soul like dew on the grass.
What does it matter that I couldn’t keep her.
The night is fractured and she is not with me.
That is all. Someone sings far off. Far off,
my soul is not content to have lost her.
As though to reach her, my sight looks for her.
My heart looks for her: she is not with me
The same night whitens, in the same branches.
We, from that time, we are not the same.
I don’t love her, that’s certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the breeze to reach her.
Another’s kisses on her, like my kisses.
Her voice, her bright body, infinite eyes.
I don’t love her, that’s certain, but perhaps I love her.
Love is brief: forgetting lasts so long.
Since, on these nights, I held her in my arms,
my soul is not content to have lost her.
Though this is the last pain she will make me suffer,
and these are the last lines I will write for her.
Pablo Neruda
God, i miss you…
i miss the usual conversation we have
i miss the times i spend with you even though i have to run errands
i miss the way you talk coz u always inspire me and
i miss the way you look at me whenever im telling my story
i miss the day when we first talked
i miss the day when you first took my hand to walk
side by side we journeyed through
the life you gave me upon knowing you
i miss you, i really do
and i hope i get to see you again
i hope you wont just show in my dreams and
do hope you wont forget that someone here on earth really misses you
and wishes for you to come back to ease my longing again for your hand
Letting Go
from an office email
by Anna Rachelle Roxas
To let go doesn’t mean to stop caring;
It means I can’t do it for someone else.
To let go is not to cut myself off…
It’s the realization that I can’t control another…
To let go is not to enable,
but to allow learning from natural consequences.
To let go is to admit powerlessness,
which means the outcome is not in my hands.
To let go is not to try and change or blame another,
I can only change myself.
To let go is not to care for, but to care about.
To let go is not to fix, but to be supportive.
To let go is not to judge,
but to allow another to be a human being.
To let go is not to be in the middle arranging all the outcomes,
but to allow others to affect their own outcomes.
To let go is not to be protective,
It is to permit another to face reality.
To let go is not to deny, but to accept.
To let go is not to nag, scold, or argue,
but to search out my own shortcomings and correct them.
To let go is not to adjust everything to my desires,
but to take each day as it comes and cherish the moment.
To let go is not to criticize and regulate anyone,
but to try to become what I dream I can be.
To let go is not to regret the past,
but to grow and live for the future.
To let go is to fear less and love more…
dennise.07:06
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