The reason why my theme is love is because love is the central theme to life. If love is life and life is love everything else should be insignificant. Love is what makes us human and love is what we as humans need to survive. If baby's are not held and loved they die. The illusion or loss of love can bring people into crisis and cause such heart ache people end there own lives.
Love is the most written about subject on earth because it is so perplexing and mesmerizing. Love teaches us things about our selves we never new. In it's highest form "making love" literally creates human life. To fall in love with another is to love thy self for without self love it is only lust. Unconditional love changes nations and is the foundation for forgiveness. Love is the most beautiful thing in the world and we are all made of just that, love.
My goals for this anthology is to learn more about poetry but more importantly about my theme, love. It is so easy to live in this world with all of my walls and protection up. It's as if I'm an animal with thorns. I've had to learn to be this way to survive. No one ever said it would be so challenging!! I want to delve into others view of love and maybe allow myself to soften and let a little of the love poets share into my world.
Poetry is a creative way of expressing one's self. Self expression is the gift we are given to learn and grow. We are all creative people and by expressing ourselves through poetry we are able to share. Sharing is another form of love. So you see everything leads back to love and only love is real.
My poems for this entry are as follows:
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Never will a Lover's chest
feel any sorrow.
Never will a Lover's robe
be touched by mortals.
Never will a Lover's body
be found buried in the earth.
To Love is to reach God.
So I am released
from childish infatuation,
moved to a somewhat soberer condition
that sees with wider eyes,
past seducing emotion of pulsing memories
of a lingering kiss, turgid flesh,
and throbbing thoughts,
through the physical to a new level
of reason containing all that passion,
and something more,
an indefinable pleasure
deep-set into the soul,
to the realm of love
that's unconditional.
http://blog.marianne.com/prayer/
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3) "Friends, Romans, Countrymen, and Lovers"
Let such pure hate still underprop
Our love, that we may be
Each other's conscience,
And have our sympathy
Mainly from thence.
We'll one another treat like gods,
And all the faith we have
In virtue and in truth, bestow
On either, and suspicion leave
To gods below.
Two solitary stars--
Unmeasured systems far
Between us roll;
But by our conscious light we are
Determined to one pole.
What need confound the sphere?--
Love can afford to wait;
For it no hour's too late
That witnesseth one duty's end,
Or to another doth beginning lend.
It will subserve no use,
More than the tints of flowers;
Only the independent guest
Frequents its bowers,
Inherits its bequest.
No speech, though kind, has it;
But kinder silence doles
Unto its mates;
By night consoles,
By day congratulates.
What saith the tongue to tongue?
What hearest ear of ear?
By the decrees of fate
From year to year,
Does it communicate.
Pathless the gulf of feeling yawns;
No trivial bridge of words,
Or arch of boldest span,
Can leap the moat that girds
The sincere man.
No show of bolts and bars
Can keep the foeman out,
Or 'scape his secret mine,
Who entered with the doubt
That drew the line.
No warder at the gate
Can let the friendly in;
But, like the sun, o'er all
He will the castle win,
And shine along the wall.
There's nothing in the world I know
That can escape from love,
For every depth it goes below,
And every height above.
It waits, as waits the sky,
Until the clouds go by,
Yet shines serenely on
With an eternal day,
Alike when they are gone,
And when they stay.
Implacable is Love--
Foes may be bought or teased
From their hostile intent,
But he goes unappeased
Who is on kindness bent.
http://www.vcu.edu/engweb/transcendentalism/authors/thoreau/thoreaupoems.html#friendship
4) "True Love"
Meaningless, that never had
A meaning. I was ten, skinny, red-headed,
Freckled. In a big black Buick,
Driven by a big grown boy, with a necktie, she sat
In front of the drugstore, sipping something
Through a straw. There is nothing like
Beauty. It stops your heart.It
Thickens your blood. It stops your breath. It
Makes you feel dirty. You need a hot bath.
I leaned against a telephone pole, and watched.
I thought I would die if she saw me.
How could I exist in the same world with that brightness?
Two years later she smiled at me.She
Named my name. I thought I would wake up dead.
Her grown brothers walked with the bent-knee
Swagger of horsemen. They were slick-faced.
Told jokes in the barbershop. Did no work.
Their father was what is called a drunkard.
Whatever he was he stayed on the third floor
Of the big white farmhouse under the maples for twenty-five years.
He never came down. They brought everything up to him.
I did not know what a mortgage was.
His wife was a good, Christian woman, and prayed.
When the daughter got married, the old man came down wearing
An old tail coat, the pleated shirt yellowing.
The sons propped him. I saw the wedding. There were
Engraved invitations, it was so fashionable. I thought
I would cry. I lay in bed that night
And wondered if she would cry when something was done to her.
The mortgage was foreclosed. That last word was whispered.
She never came back. The family
Sort of drifted off. Nobody wears shiny boots like that now.
But I know she is beautiful forever, and lives
In a beautiful house, far away.
She called my name once. I didn't even know she knew it.
By Robert Penn Warren
http://www.poemslovers.com/love-poems/famous_love_poems/poems/9357
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5) "Touched By An Angel"
We, unaccustomed to courage
Exiles from delight
live coiled in shells of loneliness
until love leave its high holy temple
and comes into our sight
to liberate us into life.
Love Arrives
and in its train come ecstasies
old memories of pleasure.
ancient histories of pain.
yet if we are bold,
love strikes away the chains of fear
from our souls.
We are weaned from our timidity
In the flush of loves light
we dare be brave
and suddenly we see
that love coasts all we are
and will ever be.
yet it is only love
which sets us free
By Maya Angelou
http://www.famouspoetsandpoems.com/poets/maya_angelou/poems/496
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