Poems for lovers

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Poems for lovers

Postby Saturn » Sun Nov 07, 2004 3:40 pm

I know this is suposed to be about Keats, but I'd like to share a few poems which some people who enjoy Keats might like:

“I know Love’s destitution
and have no heart to put into my verse.
And so I try to imitate the man
who covers up his poverty for shame:
I wear the clothes of joy,
but in my heart I weep and waste away.”
Dante, Vita nuova VII.

“…Love’s attack is so precipitous
that life itself all but abandons me:
nothing survives except one lonely spirit,
allowed to live because it speaks of you.
With hope of help to come I gather courage,
and deathly languid, drained of all defences,
I come to you expecting to be healed;
and if I raise my eyes to look at you,
within my heart a tremor starts to spread,
driving out life, stopping my pulses’ beat.”
Ibid, XVI

With my own eyes I saw how much compassion
there was in the expression of your face,
when you saw how I looked and how I acted
(it is my grief that forces me to this).
Then I became aware that you had seen
into the nature of my darkened life,
and this aroused a fear within my heart
of showing in my eyes my wretched state.
I fled, then, from your presence as I felt
the tears begin to overflow my heart
that was exalted at the sight of you.
Later, within my anguished soul, I said:
“There must dwell within that lady that same Love
that makes me go about like this in tears.”
Ibid, XXXV

“First love will with the heart remain
When all its hopes are bye
As frail rose blossoms still retain
Their fragrance till they die
And joy’s first dreams will haunt the mind
With shades from whence they sprung
As summer leaves the stems behind
On which spring’s blossoms hung”
John Clare, From ‘First Love’s Recollections’

Love

Love is a secret
Like a bird in a shell
Like a rose ere it blossom
All unseen will it dwell.

‘Tis the kernel of fruits
The germ of all flowers
The blaze of the diamond
The moment of hours.

‘Tis the star in night’s darkness
The sky in the river
The soul in man’s bosom
That wears it for ever.

‘Tis a word, and the dearest
Each language has shown
‘Tis a thought the sincerest
Any tongue has made known.

‘Tis a flower in a basket
All bloom and perfuming
‘Tis the gem of the casket
Love, beauty, and woman.
John Clare

First Love

I ne’er was struck before that hour
With love so sudden and so sweet,
her face it bloomed like a sweet flower
And stole my heart away complete.
My face turned pale as deadly pale,
My legs refused to walk away,
And when she looked, what could I ail?
My life and all seemed turned to clay.

And then my blood rushed to my face
And took my eyesight quite away,
The trees and bushes round the place
Seemed midnight at noonday.
I could not see a single thing,
Words from my eyes did start –
They spoke as chords do from the string,
And blood burnt round my heart.

Are flowers the winter’s choice?
Is love’s bed always snow?
She seemed to hear my silent voice,
Not love’s appeal to know.
I never saw so sweet a face
As that I stood before.
My heart has left its dwelling-place
And can return no more.
Ibid

Love’s Pains

This love – I canna bear it,
It cheats me night and day;
This love – I canna wear it,
It takes my peace away.

This love – was once a flower;
But now it is a thorn, -
The joy o’ evening hour
Turn’d to pain ere morn.

This love – it was a bud,
And a secret known to me;
Like a flower within a wood;
Like a nest within a tree.

This love, wrong understood,
Oft turned my join to pain;
I tried to throw away the bud,
But the blossom would remain.
Ibid
"Oh what a misery it is to have an intellect in splints".
Saturn
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Heres one from me

Postby Matt » Tue Nov 09, 2004 9:01 pm

A few years ago I would always change my sheets
Before you came to my house,
My pubescent mind embarrassed
(but slightly amused)
At stains of all different kinds.
But now that you are away from me
And only here for short visits
I keep my sheets for you
To smell. So that you can inhale
The scent of me that I hope
You’ve missed.
Once you’ve left though,
I change those sheets the way I used to,
Frantically quick and desperate,
Because when I am not going to see you
For another ten days
The last thing I need are sharp, penetrating reminders.
The smells I love, of you
And everything you do.

BEDSHEETS
Matt Pinkett
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Postby Saturn » Tue Nov 09, 2004 10:13 pm

Another gem Matt - is "penetrating reminders" a deliberate pun??

Even if it isn't, just pretend it is!!!!!

Great poem - I'm glad someone else can still write poesy - my Muse has abandoned me and I can barely sign my name anymore, never mind write poetry.
"Oh what a misery it is to have an intellect in splints".
Saturn
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Postby David » Wed Nov 10, 2004 9:53 pm

Read Petrarca's "Canzoniere" :wink:
David
 
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Postby Saturn » Wed Nov 10, 2004 10:29 pm

I've read it - in two different translations.

Petrarch's one of my heroes.
"Oh what a misery it is to have an intellect in splints".
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Postby Saturn » Thu Nov 18, 2004 9:59 pm

:cry: Here's a bit of Petrarch which I can totally relate to recently - it makes me incredibly sad just thinking of it - this is the most heartbreaking poem I've probably ever read. It probably won't mean much to anyone else but to me and a certain other person.

She used to come and comfort me in sleep,
although far off, with her angelic sight;
But now she makes me sad, and terrified,
nor can I shuffle off the fear and grief;

for often in her face I seem to find
pity mixed with a pain that's hard to bear,
and hear her say what makes me feel quite sure
that I must put all joy and hope behind.

"Does not our last evening come back to you",
she says to me, "and how your eyes were wet,
and how, compelled by time, I left you then?

"I could not, did not want to, say it; but
now it is certain, I shall make it plain:
do not expect on earth to see me more."
-Canzoniere, Pt 1, CCL.


Any cures for a completely broken heart anyone??

Please, keep it clean.
"Oh what a misery it is to have an intellect in splints".
Saturn
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Postby Despondence » Fri Nov 19, 2004 3:26 pm

Thaks for posting the Petrarch snippet. Now I'll have to read this one as well. My to-read list keeps growing faster than I can read...phhh!

Broken heart remedy? If it could be bottled and introduced on the stock market, playwrights and poets would be out of business, and we wouldn't have anything to talk about. How dull.

For myself - watch a good movie or two about dysfunctional relationships (always cheers me up to be reminded how fucked up we humans can be..). I like e.g. "Cyrano de Bergerac", or "As Good as it Gets".

Alternatively, go out and get sloshed. Nothing like a good hangover to put things in perspective.
Despondence
 


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