There Is A Voice Inside Of You That Whispers All Day Long, “I Feel That This Is Right For Me, I Know That This Is Wrong.” No Teacher, Preacher, Parent, Friend Or Wise Man Can Decide What’s Right For You - Just Listen To The Voice That Speaks Inside.
These Words Are Not My Words.
These words are not my words, no.
I could not take credit for such extravagant blasphemy in the name of love. They are the words of my heart. A heart so in love it could stand on its own outside of its home and proclaim its sentiments in sentences of relevance to the elegance of the one it loves most. The one that sets him free and sets the fire, igniting his desire so his passions can burn brighter.
A dreamer he is, but if that is so… Then she must be his bed and his rest because she is what allows for his dreams to be visualized and realized. It is thanks to her that he has seen the lies and thrown aside the false for truths, returned to his root, arose as the rose from the concrete and grew through the roof. Such hardship and pain doth the rose face to crack the pavement of the deception of its perception.
Love however, he knows love. Its feelings and sayings, its teachings and greetings… Seeking and seeking to keep up his breathing… But without his air, it is useless to try. And so he awaits, either his dying breath or his glorious savior… His air, she is. His truest breath and the element of his life.
But these words are not my words, no.
By: Christian Torres
Soul of the world, no life, no world remain,
no beautiful men, women, longing,
only this ancient lovecircling the holy,
black stone of nothing,where the lover is the love,
the horizon, and everything within it.
I will not die an unlived life.
I will not live in fear
of falling or catching fire.
I choose to inhabit my days,
to allow my living to open me,
to make me less afraid,
to loosen my heart
until it becomes a wing,
a torch, a promise.
I choose to risk my significance;
to live so that which came to me as seed
goes to the next as blossom
and that which came to me as blossom,
goes on as fruit.
~ Dawna Markova
I doubt I’ll ever pen those perfect lines
words are inadequate, where would I begin
how do I explain how much you mean to me
and how truly special you’ve always been
Love is an oft overused meaningless word
bought, sold and frequently misunderstood
somehow we’re blessed with something more
I’d gift wrap and deliver my heart if I could
You alone are life, you’ve given it meaning
in my hopes and dreams there’s only you
please forgive this poet’s stumbling rhymes
and when you hear “I love you”, know it’s true
Do You Remember
Do you remember
making love until
we fell exhausted
into each others arms
The day our legs
under the desk at work
and neither one moved
Our big moment
your stunning dress
my angel in white
I cried as well
Ski trips in the Poconos
future children’s name
our first house
Wherever you are today
we made so many mistakes
do you ever still remember
She’s the type of dream you never wake from
The type of beauty you can’t peel your eyes from
The type of woman you take your every breath for
She’s the type of obsession you can’t seem to get enough of
The inspiration for your every breath
The sunshine in your every step
The reason smiles never fade in the spring rains
The reason her love seems to erase every single ounce of pain
Exempt to time and space,
You are of the Infinite.
Embrace the sky,
And fall from earth.
The temple of love is not love itself;
True love is the treasure,
Not the walls about it.
Do not admire the decoration,
But involve yourself in the essence,
The perfume that invades and touches you-
The beginning and the end.
Discovered, this replace all else,
The apparent and the unknowable.
Time and space are slaves to this presence.
Are You Looking For Me?
Are you looking for me?
I am in the next seat.
My shoulder is against yours.
you will not find me in the stupas,
not in Indian shrine rooms,
nor in synagogues,
nor in cathedrals:
not in masses,
not in legs winding around your own neck,
nor in eating nothing but vegetables.
When you really look for me,
you will see me instantly —
you will find me in the tiniest house of time.
Kabir says: Student, tell me, what is God?
He is the breath inside the breath.