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Ominous Lord Spoonblade
Wednesday, November 5th, 2003, 01:30 AM
Post 'em if ya got 'em! Songs are good too, as is criticism! :eking

Here's some (okay, a lot!) by Dorothy Parker:

A Very Short Song

Once, when I was young and true,
Someone left me sad-
Broke my brittle heart in two;
And that is very bad.

Love is for unlucky folk,
Love is but a curse.
Once there was a heart I broke;
And that, I think, is worse.


To a Much Too Unfortunate Lady

He will love you presently
If you be the way you be.
Send your heart a-skittering.
He will stoop, and lift the thing.
Be your dreams as thread, to tease
Into patterns he shall please.
Let him see your passion is
Ever tenderer than his....
Go and bless your star above,
Thus are you, and thus is Love.

He will leave you white with woe,
If you go the way you go.
If your dreams were thread to weave
He will pluck them from his sleeve.
If your heart had come to rest,
He will flick it from his breast.
Tender though the love he bore,
You had loved a little more....
Lady, go and curse your star,
Thus Love is, and thus you are.


Unfortunate Coincidence

By the time you swear you're his,
Shivering and sighing,
And he vows his passion is
Infinite, undying -
Lady, make a note of this:
One of you is lying.


Love Song (One of my personal favorites :D)

My own dear love, he is strong and bold
And he cares not what comes after.
His words ring sweet as a chime of gold,
And his eyes are lit with laughter.
He is jubilant as a flag unfurled-
Oh, a girl, she'd not forget him.
My own dear love, he is all my world-
And I wish I'd never met him.

My love, he's mad, and my love, he's fleet,
And a wild young wood-thing bore him!
The ways are fair to his roaming feet,
And the skies are sunlit for him.
As sharply sweet to my heart he seems
As the fragrance of acacia.
My own dear love, he is all my dreams-
And I wish he were in Asia.

My love runs by like a day in June,
And he makes no friends of sorrows.
He'll tread his galloping rigadoon
In the pathway of the morrows.
He'll live his days where the sunbeams start,
Nor could storm or wind uproot him.
My own dear love, he is all my heart-
And I wish somebody'd shoot him.

Men

They hail you as their morning star
Because you are the way you are.
If you return the sentiment,
They'll try to make you different;
And once they have you, safe and sound,
They want to change you all around.
Your moods and ways they put a curse on;
They'd make of you another person.
They cannot let you go your gait;
They influence and educate.
They'd alter all that they admired.
They make me sick, they make me tired.


Interview (this one is #1 -I love it)

The ladies men admire, I've heard,
Would shudder at a wicked word.
Their candle gives a single light;
They'd rather stay at home at night.
They do not keep awake till three,
Nor read erotic poetry.
They never sanction the impure,
Nor recognize an overture.
They shrink from powders and from paints.
So far, I have had no complaints.

Scáthach
Wednesday, November 5th, 2003, 01:51 AM
'Against all reason, I am fain to fling my life, my youth, myself beneath your feet'


From Last Poems (1905):
Dedication to Malcolm Nicolson

''I, who of lighter love wrote many a verse,
Made public never words inspired by thee,
Lest strangers' lips should carelessly rehearse
Things that were sacred and too dear to me.

Thy soul was noble; through these fifteen years
Mine eyes familiar, found no fleck nor flaw,
Stern to thyself, thy comrades' faults and fears
Proved generosity thine only law.

Small joy was I to thee; before we met
Sorrow had left thee all too sad to save.
Useless my love--as vain as this regret
That pours my hopeless life across thy grave. ''


KASHMIRI SONG

by: Laurence Hope (1865-1904)

''Pale hands I loved beside the Shalimar,
Where are you now? Who lies beneath your spell?
Whom do you lead on rapture's roadway far,
Before you agonise them in farewell?

Oh, pale dispensers of my Joys and Pains,
Holding the doors of Heaven and Hell,
How the hot blood rushed wildly through the veins,
Beneath your touch, until you waved farewell.

Pale hands, pink tipped, like Lotus buds that float
On those cool waters where we used to dwell,
I would have rather felt you round my throat,
Crushing out life, than waving me farewell. ''



by: Laurence Hope (1865-1904)

''SINCE, oh, Beloved, you are not even faithful
To me, who loved you so, for one short night,
For one brief space of darkness, though my absence
Did but endure until the dawning light:

Since all your beauty--which was mine--you squandered
On that which now lies dead across your door;
See here this knife, made keen and bright to kill you.
You shall not see the sun rise any more.

Lie still! Lie still! In all the empty village
Who is there left to hear or heed your cry?
All are gone down to labour in the valley,
Who will return before your time to die?

No use to struggle; when I found you sleeping,
I took your hands and bound them to your side,
And both these slender feet, too apt at straying,
Down to the cot on which you lie are tied.

Lie still, Beloved; that dead thing lying yonder,
I hated and I killed, but love is sweet,
And you are more than sweet to me, who love you,
Who decked my eyes with dust from off your feet.

Give me your lips; ah, lovely and disloyal
Give me yourself again; before you go
Down through the darkness of the Great, Blind Portal,
All of life's best and basest you must know.

Erstwhile, Beloved, you were so young and fragile
I held you gently, as one holds a flower:
But now, God knows, what use to still be tender
To one whose life is done within an hour?

I hurt? What then? Death will not hurt you, dearest,
As you hurt me, just for a single night.
You call me cruel, who laid my life in ruins
To gain one little moment of delight.

Look up, look out, across the open doorway
The sunlight streams. The distant hills are blue.
Look at the pale, pink peach trees in our garden,
Sweet fruit will come of them;--but not for you.

The fair, far snow, upon those jagged mountains
That gnaw against the hard blue Afghan sky
Will soon descend, set free by summer sunshine.
You will not see those torrents sweeping by.

The world is not for you. From this day forward,
You must lie still alone, who would not lie
Alone for one night only, though returning
I was, when earliest dawn should break the sky.

There lies my lute, and many strings are broken,
Some one was playing it, and some one tore
The silken tassels round my Hookah woven;
Some one who plays, and smokes, and loves, no more!

Some one who took last night his fill of pleasure,
As I took mine at dawn! The knife went home
Straight through his heart! God only knows my rapture
Bathing my chill hands in the warm red foam.

And so I pain you? This is only loving,
Wait till I kill you! Ah, this soft curled hair!
Surely the fault was mine, to Love and leave you
Even a single night, you are so fair.

Cold steel is very cooling to the fervour
Of overpassionate ones, Beloved, like you.
Nay, turn your lips to mine. Not quite unlovely
They are as yet, as yet, though quite untrue.

What will your brothers say, to-night returning
With laden camels homewards to the hills,
Finding you dead, and me asleep beside you,
Will he wake me first before he kills?

For I shall sleep. Here on the cot beside you
When you, my Heart's Delight, are cold in death.
When your young heart and restless lips are silent,
Grown chilly, even beneath my burning breath.

When I have slowly drawn the knife across you,
Taking my pleasure as I see you swoon,
I shall sleep sound, worn out by love's last fervour,
And then, God grant your kinsmen kill me soon! ''

Vojvoda
Wednesday, November 5th, 2003, 02:12 AM
Somehow, I'll make it through to tomorrow.
And I'll still love her.
And she'll still love me.
And we'll still be close together.
And we'll still be forever apart.
And my heart
still has not learned a thing.


bla bla bla:)

Scáthach
Wednesday, November 5th, 2003, 02:15 AM
Hymn

The spacious firmament on high,
With all the blue ethereal sky,
And spangled heavens, a shining frame,
Their great Original proclaim.
Th' unwearied Sun from day to day
Does his Creator's power display;
And publishes to every land
The work of an Almighty hand.

Soon as the evening shades prevail,
The Moon takes up the wondrous tale;
And nightly to the listening Earth
Repeats the story of her birth:
Whilst all the stars that round her burn,
And all the planets in their turn,
Confirm the tidings as they roll,
And spread the truth from pole to pole.

What though in solemn silence all
Move round the dark terrestrial ball;
What though nor real voice nor sound
Amidst their radiant orbs be found?
In Reason's ear they all rejoice,
And utter forth a glorious voice;
For ever singing as they shine,
'The Hand that made us is divine.'

- Joseph Addison


Isolation: To Marguerite

We were apart; yet, day by day,
I bade my heart more constant be.
I bade it keep the world away,
And grow a home for only thee;
Nor fear'd but thy love likewise grew,
Like mine, each day, more tried, more true.

The fault was grave! I might have known,
What far too soon, alas! I learn'd--
The heart can bind itself alone,
And faith may oft be unreturn'd.
Self-sway'd our feelings ebb and swell--
Thou lov'st no more;--Farewell! Farewell!

Farewell!--and thou, thou lonely heart,
Which never yet without remorse
Even for a moment didst depart
From thy remote and spher{`e}d course
To haunt the place where passions reign--
Back to thy solitude again!

Back! with the conscious thrill of shame
Which Luna felt, that summer-night,
Flash through her pure immortal frame,
When she forsook the starry height
To hang over Endymion's sleep
Upon the pine-grown Latmian steep.

Yet she, chaste queen, had never proved
How vain a thing is mortal love,
Wandering in Heaven, far removed.
But thou hast long had place to prove
This truth--to prove, and make thine own:
"Thou hast been, shalt be, art, alone."

Or, if not quite alone, yet they
Which touch thee are unmating things--
Ocean and clouds and night and day;
Lorn autumns and triumphant springs;
And life, and others' joy and pain,
And love, if love, of happier men.

Of happier men--for they, at least,
Have dream'd two human hearts might blend
In one, and were through faith released
From isolation without end
Prolong'd; nor knew, although not less
Alone than thou, their loneliness. ''

- Matthew Arnold

Home-Thoughts, From Abroad

I.

Oh, to be in England
Now that April's there,
And whoever wakes in England
Sees, some morning, unaware,
That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf
Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf,
While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough
In England---now!!

II.

And after April, when May follows,
And the whitethroat builds, and all the swallows!
Hark, where my blossomed pear-tree in the hedge
Leans to the field and scatters on the clover
Blossoms and dewdrops---at the bent spray's edge---
That's the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over,
Lest you should think he never could recapture
The first fine careless rapture!
And though the fields look rough with hoary dew,
All will be gay when noontide wakes anew
The buttercups, the little children's dower
---Far brighter than this gaudy melon-flower!''

- Robert Browning


''I loved you..."

I loved you, and I probably still do,
And for a while the feeling may remain...
But let my love no longer trouble you,
I do not wish to cause you any pain.
I loved you; and the hopelessness I knew,
The jealousy, the shyness - though in vain -
Made up a love so tender and so true
As may God grant you to be loved again''

- Pushkin


Break, break, break

Break, break, break,
On thy cold gray stones, O Sea!
And I would that my tongue could utter
The thoughts that arise in me.

O, well for the fisherman's boy,
That he shouts with his sister at play!
O, well for the sailor lad,
That he sings in his boat on the bay!

And the stately ships go on
To their haven under the hill;
But O for the touch of a vanished hand,
And the sound of a voice that is still!

Break, break, break,
At the foot of thy crags, O Sea!
But the tender grace of a day that is dead
Will never come back to me.

- Tennyson


‘And ask ye why these sad tears stream?’

''And ask ye why these sad tears stream?
Why these wan eyes are dim with weeping?
I had a dream–a lovely dream,
Of her that in the grave is sleeping.

I saw her as ’twas yesterday,
The bloom upon her cheek still glowing;
And round her play’d a golden ray,
And on her brows were gay flowers blowing.

With angel-hand she swept a lyre,
A garland red with roses bound it;
Its strings were wreath’d with lambent fire
And amaranth was woven round it.

I saw her mid the realms of light,
In everlasting radiance gleaming;
Co-equal with the seraphs bright,
Mid thousand thousand angels beaming.

I strove to reach her, when, behold,
Those fairy forms of bliss Elysian,
And all that rich scene wrapt in gold,
Faded in air–a lovely vision!

And I awoke, but oh! to me
That waking hour was doubly weary;
And yet I could not envy thee,
Although so blest, and I so dreary. ''

- Tennyson


Disabled

He sat in a wheeled chair, waiting for dark,
And shivered in his ghastly suit of grey,
Legless, sewn short at elbow. Through the park
Voices of boys rang saddening like a hymn,
Voices of play and pleasure after day,
Till gathering sleep had mothered them from him.

About this time Town used to swing so gay
When glow-lamps budded in the light blue trees,
And girls glanced lovelier as the air grew dim,-
In the old times, before he threw away his knees.
Now he will never feel again how slim
Girls' waists are, or how warm their subtle hands.
All of them touch him like some queer disease.

There was an artist silly for his face,
For it was younger than his youth, last year.
Now, he is old; his back will never brace;
He's lost his colour very far from here,
Poured it down shell-holes till the veins ran dry,
And half his lifetime lapsed in the hot race
And leap of purple spurted from his thigh.

One time he liked a blood-smear down his leg,
After the matches, carried shoulder-high.
It was after football, when he'd drunk a peg,
He thought he'd better join. - He wonders why.
Someone had said he'd look a god in kilts,
That's why; and maybe, too, to please his Meg,
Aye, that was it, to please the giddy jilts
He asked to join. He didn't have to beg;
Smiling they wrote his lie: aged nineteen years.

Germans he scarcely thought of; all their guilt,
And Austria's, did not move him. And no fears
Of Fear came yet. He drought of jewelled hills
For daggers in plaid socks; of smart salutes;
And care of arms; and leave; and pay arrears;
Esprit de corps; and hints for young recruits.
And soon, he was drafted out with drums and cheers.

Some cheered him home, but not as crowds cheer Goal.
Only a solemn man who brought him fruits
Thanked him; and then enquired about his soul.

Now, he will spend a few sick years in institutes,
And do what things the rules consider wise,
And take whatever pity they may dole.
Tonight he noticed how the women's eyes
Passed from him to the strong men that were whole.
How cold and late it is! Why don't they come
And put him into bed? Why don't they come?

- Wilfred Owen


Greater Love

Red lips are not so red
As the stained stones kissed by the English dead.
Kindness of wooed and wooer
Seems shame to their love pure.
O Love, your eyes lose lure
When I behold eyes blinded in my stead!

Your slender attitude
Trembles not exquisite like limbs knife-skewed,
Rolling and rolling there
Where God seems not to care;
Till the fierce love they bear
Cramps them in death's extreme decrepitude.

Your voice sings not so soft,-
Though even as wind murmuring through raftered loft,-
Your dear voice is not dear,
Gentle, and evening clear,
As theirs whom none now hear,
Now earth has stopped their piteous mouths that coughed.

Heart, you were never hot
Nor large, nor full like hearts made great with shot;
And though your hand be pale,
Paler are all which trail
Your cross through flame and hail:
Weep, you may weep, for you may touch them not.''

- Wilfred Owen


Vergissmeinnicht

Three weeks gone and the combatants gone
returning over the nightmare ground
we found the place again, and found
the soldier sprawling in the sun.

The frowning barrel of his gun
overshadowing. As we came on
that day, he hit my tank with one
like the entry of a demon.

Look. Here in the gunpit spoil
the dishonoured picture of his girl
who has put: Steffi. Vergissmeinnicht.
in a copybook gothic script.

We see him almost with content,
abased, and seeming to have paid
and mocked at by his own equipment
that's hard and good when he's decayed.

But she would weep to see today
how on his skin the swart flies move;
the dust upon the paper eye
and the burst stomach like a cave.

For here the lover and killer are mingled
who had one body and one heart.
And death who had the soldier singled
has done the lover mortal hurt.

- Keith Douglas


Sorry for going offtopic, but they do really relate, just not always so obviously :)

Vojvoda
Wednesday, November 5th, 2003, 02:19 AM
I gave you my heart right from the start
You took it away, that's not o.k.
I want it back so I can have a heart attack
To take away the pain from my soul, so I can die
I thought I'd never say this to you but......forever goodbye.

Scáthach
Wednesday, November 5th, 2003, 02:30 AM
Wolfram's Dirge

''If thou wilt ease thine heart
Of love and all its smart,
Then sleep, dear, sleep;
And not a sorrow
Hang any tear on your eyelashes;
Lie still and deep,
Sad soul, until the sea-wave washes
The rim o' the sun to-morrow,
In eastern sky.

But wilt thou cure thine heart
Of love and all its smart,
Then die, dear, die;
'Tis deeper, sweeter,
Than on a rose-bank to lie dreaming
With folded eye;
And then alone, amid the beaming
Of Love's stars, thou'lt meet her
In eastern sky. ''

The Last Man

By heaven and hell, and all the fools between them,
I will not die, nor sleep, nor wink my eyes,
But think myself into a god; old Death
Shall dream he has slain me, and I'll creep behind him,
Thrust off the bony tyrant from his throne
And beat him into dust. Or I will burst
Damnation's iron egg, my tomb, and come
Half damned, ere they make lightning of my soul,
And creep into thy carcase as thou sleepest
Between two crimson fevers. I'll dethrone
The empty skeleton, and be thy death,
A death of grinding madness. -- Fear me now;
I am a devil, not a human soul

-- Thomas Lovell Beddoes

Ominous Lord Spoonblade
Wednesday, November 5th, 2003, 02:44 AM
Great poems!

Here's the ultimate classic :) :

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red, than her lips red:
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound:
I grant I never saw a goddess go,
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
And yet by heaven, I think my love as rare,
As any she belied with false compare.

Gladstone
Wednesday, November 5th, 2003, 03:55 AM
Good Vibrations

by Beach Boys

I, I love the colorful clothes she wears
And the way the sunlight plays upon her hair
I hear the sound of a gentle word
On the wind that lifts her perfume through the air

Close my eyes
She's somehow closer now
Softly smile, I know she must be kind
When I look in her eyes
She goes with me to a blossom world

Gladstone
Wednesday, November 5th, 2003, 04:25 AM
By the band Garbage

Milk

I am milk
I am red hot kitchen
And I am cool
Cool as the deep blue ocean

I am lost
So I am cruel
But I'd be love and sweetness
If I had you

I'm waiting
I'm waiting for you
I'm waiting
I'm waiting for you

I am weak
But I am strong
I can use my tears to
Bring you home

I'm waiting
I'm waiting for you
I'm waiting
I'm waiting for you
I'm waiting
I'm waiting for you

I am milk
I am red hot kitchen
I am cool
Cool as the deep blue ocean

I'm waiting
I'm waiting for you
I'm waiting
I'm waiting for you

I'm waiting
I'm waiting for you
I'm aching
I'm aching for you

I'm waiting
I'm waiting
I'm waiting for you.


Lovesong

The Cure

whenever I'm alone with you you make me feel
like i am home again whenever i'm alone with
you you make me feel like i am whole again

whenever i'm alone with you you make me feel
like i am young again whenever i'm alone with
you you make me feel like i am fun again

however far away i will always love you however
long i stay i will always love you whatever
words i say i will always love you i will always
love you

whenever i'm alone with you you make me feel
like i am free again whenever i'm alone with
you you make me feel like i am clean again

however far away i will always love you however
long i stay i will always love you whatever
words i say i will always love you i will always
love you

Gladstone
Wednesday, November 5th, 2003, 04:34 AM
This is good

She Moved Through the Fair

Unknown

My young love said to me, my mother won´t mind
And my father won´t slight you for your lack of kine,
And she stepped away from me and this she did say,
It will not be long love ´til our wedding day.

She stepped away from me and she moved through the fair,
And fondly I watched her move here and move there,
Then she went her way homeward with one star awake,
As the swan in the evening moves over the lake.

The people were saying no two were e´er wed,
But one has a sorrow that never was said,
And I smiled as she passed with her goods and her gear,
And that was the last that I saw of my dear.

I dreamt it last night that my young love came in,
So softly she entered her feet made no din,
She came close beside me and this she did say,
It will not be long love ´til our wedding day

Taras Bulba
Wednesday, November 5th, 2003, 05:10 AM
Some poems by my Russian favorite poets of Alexander Pushkin(whose my avatar) and Mikhail Lermontov.


"I loved You" by Alexander Pushkin

I loved you; and perhaps I love you still,
The flame, perhaps, is not extinguished; yet
It burns so quietly within my soul,
No longer should you feel distressed by it.
Silently and hopelessly I loved you,
At times too jealous and at times too shy.
God grant you find another who will love you
As tenderly and truthfully as I.


"I remember the wonderful moment" by Alexander Pushkin

I remember the wonderful moment: you appeared before me like a
transient vision of the spirit of pure beauty.
To me, languishing in hopeless sadness, among the cares of the
noisy, restive world, a tender voice sounded and beloved features
formed my dreams.
The years passed. The storms' wild gust scattered my eariler dreams,
and I forgot your tender voice, your heavenly features. I
dragged out my days slowly, in distant, dark confinement, cut off from
God, uninspired, without tears, without life, without love.
My soul's awakening began: and behold! you appeared again, like a
transient vision of the spirit of pure beauty.
And my heart is beating, entraptured, in my heart all that is godlike, inpsiration, life, tears and love, has risen once again.

"Loneliness" by Mikhail Lermontov

It's Hell for us to draw the fetters
Of life in alienation, stiff.
All people prefer to share gladness,
And nobody - to share grief.

As a king of air, I'm lone here,
The pain lives in my heart, so grim,
And I can see that, to the fear
Of fate, years pass me by like dreams;

And comes again with, touched by gold,
The same dream, gloomy one and old.
I see a coffin, black and sole,
It waits: why to detain the world?

There will be not a sad reflection,
There will be (I am betting on)
Much more gaily celebration
When I am dead, than - born.


"No, Not with You..." by Mikhail Lermontov

No, not with you I fell in love so fast,
And not for me your beauty is succeeding;
I love in you my suffering preceding,
And youth of mine, that perished in the past.

And when sometimes my look is long and hard,
And penetrates your eyes of high perfection;
I'm busy with a secret conversation,
But not to you I send my words of heart.

To my youth's girl, my word of soul flies,
In features yours, I seek for other dears,
In lips alive -- the lips, so mute for years,
In eyes -- the flame of the extinguished eyes.


"Their Love Was So Gentle..." by Mikhail Lermontov

Their love was so gentle, so long, and surprising,
With pining, so deep, and zeal, like a crazy uprising!
But, much like foes, they shunned their meetings, confessions…
And were cold and empty their short conversations.

They left each other in suffering, wordless and proud,
And only in dreams, saw the image beloved, farther.
Death had come and commenced their date in the world, that is out...
But they didn't discern in this new world each other.


"Why" by Mikhail Lermontov

I'm sad for, loving thee, I know full well
That this world's talk, with its calumnious spell
Will never spare thy fresh youth's opening flower.
For every happy day and sunny hour,
Fate will exact in grief and tears his pay.
I'm sad because I see my loved one gay!

Taras Bulba
Wednesday, November 5th, 2003, 05:19 AM
"The Last Love" by Fedor Tyutchev

Oh, how, in the ending years
Is love more tender and superstitious --
O shine! O shine, my parting rays
Of the evening sun, of the last heart wishes!

The darkness cuts half of the sky;
And only the West has the roving glow,
Oh, time of evening, do not fly!
Enchantment, be prolonged and slow!

Let blood in veins has a thinner staff,
But a heart preserves the gentle passion --
O you, my last and tender love,
You are my bliss and desperation.


"A Beauty" by Alexander Pushkin

All in her is harmony, all marvel
All higher than the earth and passions;
She bashfully remains sequestered
In her triumphant beauty;
She gazes about her:
She has no rivals, has no friends;
The pallid circle of our beauties
In her radiance vanishes.

Wherever you might have been hastening,
And if it were a lover's tryst,
Whatever in your heart been nursing
Of innermost private daydream-
Still, meeting her, you could, bewildered,
But willy-nilly come to halt,
Worshipping is pious aew
Before the sanctuary of beauty.

Gladstone
Wednesday, November 5th, 2003, 06:36 AM
Isabel Arundell and Richard Burton were engaged in 1856 shortly before Burton undertook a nearly three year exploration of Africa searching for the source of the Nile. As it was highly dangerous, she did not travel with him but awaited his return in England. They married in 1861 with stiff opposition from Isabel's mother who was ultimately simply disregarded. The Arundell's were English Catholic aristocracy and Burton was not only not Catholic, nor aristocrat, but "had no money.":( :~( Never the less, love conquered all. :) ;)

A poem written by Richard to his future wife Isabel in 1856, just before his departing on his long journey

I worn thine image, Fame
Within a heart well fit to be thy shrine!
Others a thousand boons may gain,
One wish was mine...

The hope to gain one smile,
To dwell one moment cradled on thy breast,
Then close my eyes, bid life farewell,
And take my rest.

Some journal entries of Isabel's that same year (she kept an extensive diary) and while Burton was on his nearly three year long exploration of Africa. Tho not poems or songs they certainly fit in

A woman feels raised by the love of a man to whom she has given her heart...It is true I was captured at first sight; but his immense talents and adventurous life compelled interest, and a master mind like his exercizes influence on all around it. But I love him, because I find in him a depth of feeling, a generous heart, and because, though brave as a lion, he is yet a gentle, delicate, sensitive nature, and the soul of honour...he unites the wild, lawless creature and the gentleman...

...Fancy achieving a good which affects millions, making your name a household name! ...half the men in the world live and die, and are never missed, and like a woman, leave nothing behind them but a tombstone...I would at this moment sacrifice and leave all to follow his fortunes, were it his wish or for his good...

I love and am loved...no gilded misery for me. I was born for love, and require it as light and air. Whatever harshness the future may bring, he has loved me, and my future is bound up with him in all consequences...he thinks he is sacrificing me; but I want pain, privations, dangers with him...Where I could not so follow him, I would not be a clog to him, for I am tolerably independent.

A few months before returning to England (May 8, 1859) Richard wrote Isabel from the island of Zanzibar a poem and mailed it to her with no explanation, the poem itself was the letter

To Isabel

That brow which rose before my sight
As on the palmer's holy shrine;
Those eyes-my life was in their light;
Those lips-my sacrificial wine;
That voice whose flow was wont to seem
The music of an exile's dream.

Shortly after Richard's return (May 1859) Isabel wrote a letter to her mother hoping to win her over. She stated in part

"I want to live...I want a wild, roving, vagabond life...I would at this moment sacrifice and leave all to follow his fortunes, even if you all cast me out-if
the world tabooed me."

Wow! What a fortunate fellow Richard was to have her as a mate and for Isabel to have him. On January 22, 1861, the two married. And they indeed did live the "wild, roving, vagabond life". :D

Sigrun Christianson
Wednesday, November 5th, 2003, 06:36 AM
These are just a few of my favorites, some are about romantic love between men & women, some are about other types of love, but all remind me of my love and make me smile. :heartbeat
-Sigrun


To C.--, who is sweeter than honey and the honeycomb,
B.-- sends all the love that one can send to love.
http://www.sappho.com/images/dot_clear.gif O my unique and special one,
Why are you delaying so long in that far-off land?
Why do you want me to die, your one and only
Who loves you, as you know, with all her body and soul,
and who, like a hungry little bird,
Sighs for you at every hour and every moment?
For ever since I was cut off from your sweetest presence,
I have not wanted to hear or see anyone else but you;
Just as a turtledove, after she lost her husband,
Remains forever sitting on its barren twig,
So I lament without end
Until I once more can enjoy your faithfulness.
I look around and do not find my lover,
Nor anyone to console me with a word.
While I very happily
Review in my mind the sweetness
Of your conversations and your appearance,
I am oppressed with terrible pain,
For I find nothing like them now.
What should I compare to your love?
It is sweeter than honey or the honeycomb.
And compared to it, the luster of gold and silver are worthless.
What else can I say? In you are all sweetness and value.
Thus my spirit always languishes in your absence.
You have none of the poison of treachery;
You are sweeter than milk and honey.
You are singled out from the thousands;
I love you more than all the others;
You alone are my love and my desire;
You are the sweet refreshment of my soul.
There is no pleasure for me
Without you.
Everything that was pleasant with you
Is wearisome now and dreary without you.
And so, I wish to say that in all truth
That if I could pay my life for you, I would not hesitate
Because you are the only woman I have chosen with my heart.
Therefore, I always pray to God
That bitter death does not come to me
Before I enjoy the sight of you, so long desired and so dear.
Farewell. --
Have all my faith and love;
Accept what I have written and sent you
And my ever faithful spirit.
-Anonymous German Lesbian ;-)


Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever; I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood,
For nothing now can ever come to any good
-W.H. Auden


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

[All of these are by Rilke:]

Again and Again

Again and again, however we know the landscape of love
and the little churchyard there, with its sorrowing names,
and the frighteningly silent abyss into which the others
fall: again and again the two of us walk out together
under the ancient trees, lie down again and again
among the flowers, face to face with the sky.

Put Out My Eyes

Put out my eyes, and I can see you still,
Slam my ears to, and I can hear you yet;
And without any feet can go to you;
And tongueless, I can conjure you at will.
Break off my arms, I shall take hold of you
And grasp you with my heart as with a hand;
Arrest my heart, my brain will beat as true;
And if you set this brain of mine afire,
Then on my blood-stream I yet will carry you.

Girl in Love

That's my window. This minute
So gently did I alight
From sleep--was still floating in it.
Where has my life its limit
And where begins the night?

I could fancy all things around me
Were nothing but I as yet;
Like a crystal's depth, profoundly
Mute, translucent, unlit.

I have space to spare inside me
For the stars, too: so full of room
Feels my heart; so lightly
Would it let go of him, whom

For all I know I have started
To love, it may be to hold.
Strange, as if never charted,
Stares my fortune untold.

Why is it I am bedded
Beneath this infinitude,
Fragrant like a meadow,
Hither and thither moved,

Calling out, yet fearing
Someone might hear the cry,
Destined to disappearing
Within another I.

And last, but not least, the songs...

I Touch Myself, by the Divinyls

I love myself
I want you to love me
When I'm feelin' down
I want you above me
I search myself
I want you to find me
I forget myself
I want you to remind me

I don't want anybody else
When I think about you
I touch myself
I don't want anybody else
Oh no, oh no, oh no

You're the one who makes me happy honey
You're the sun who makes me shine
When you're around I'm always laughing
I want to make you mine

I close my eyes
And see you before me
Think I would die
If you were to ignore me
A fool could see
Just how much I adore you
I get down on my knees
I'd do anything for you

I love myself
I want you to love me
When I'm feelin' down
I want you above me
I search myself
I want you to find me
I forget myself
I want you to remind me

I want you
I don't want anybody else
And when I think about you
I touch myself
Ooh, oooh, oooooh, aaaaaah


Back on the Chain Gang, by the Pretenders

I found a picture of you, oh oh oh oh
What hijacked my world that night
To a place in the past
We’ve been cast out of? oh oh oh oh
Now we’re back in the fight
We’re back on the train
Oh, back on the chain gang

A circumstance beyond our control, oh oh oh oh
The phone, the tv and the news of the world
Got in the house like a pigeon from hell, oh oh oh oh
Threw sand in our eyes and descended like flies
Put us back on the train
Oh, back on the chain gang

The powers that be
That force us to live like we do
Bring me to my knees
When I see what they’ve done to you
But I’ll die as I stand here today
Knowing that deep in my heart
They’ll fall to ruin one day
For making us part

I found a picture of you, oh oh oh oh
Those were the happiest days of my life
Like a break in the battle was your part, oh oh oh oh
In the wretched life of a lonely heart
Now we’re back on the train
Oh, back on the chain gang

Ice Cream, by Sarah McLachlan

Your love is better than ice cream
Better than anything else that I've tried
And your love is better than ice cream
Everyone here know how to fight

And it's a long way down
It's a long way down
It's a long way down to the place
Where we started from

Your love is better than chocolate
Better than anything else that I've tried
Oh love is better than chocolate
Everyone here knows how to cry

It's a long way down
It's a long way down
It's a long way down to the place
Where we started from...

Sigrun Christianson
Wednesday, November 5th, 2003, 07:03 AM
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red, than her lips red:
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound:
I grant I never saw a goddess go,
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
And yet by heaven, I think my love as rare,
As any she belied with false compare.
I love that one, too. So offensive and yet so sweet. :rofl

Scáthach
Wednesday, November 5th, 2003, 08:33 PM
Some poems by my Russian favorite poets of Alexander Pushkin(whose my avatar) and Mikhail Lermontov.


"I loved You" by Alexander Pushkin

I loved you; and perhaps I love you still,
The flame, perhaps, is not extinguished; yet
It burns so quietly within my soul,
No longer should you feel distressed by it.
Silently and hopelessly I loved you,
At times too jealous and at times too shy.
God grant you find another who will love you
As tenderly and truthfully as I.



I got there before you ;) :)

Gladstone, Smithy writes the best songs! :D

Taras Bulba
Wednesday, November 5th, 2003, 09:25 PM
I got there before you ;) :)


Yes, I found that out after I posted it. Oh well, doesn't hurt to post a good poem twice! :) :)

Gladstone
Wednesday, November 5th, 2003, 09:40 PM
Gladstone, Smithy writes the best songs! :DHe certainly has his moments. Lovesong is fine music. :)

Vojvoda
Wednesday, November 5th, 2003, 10:03 PM
I can REALLY relate to this song:D

Matchbox 20-Last Beautiful Girl

This will all fall down like everything else that was
This too shall pass and all of the words we said
We can't take back
Now every fool in town would've left by now
I can't replace all the wasted days
The memory of your face - can't help thinkin'
Maybe if we ever coulda kept it all together
Where would we be
A thousand lost forevers
And the promises you never were giving me
Here's what I'm thinking
It won't be the first - heart that you break
It won't be the last - beautiful girl
The one that you wrecked - won't take you back
If you were the last beautiful girl in the world
Tell me one more time
How you're sorry about the way
This all went down - you needed to find your space
You needed to still be friends
Needed me to
Call you if I ever couldn't keep it all together you'd comfort me
Tell me but forever
And the promises I never should have believed in
Here's what I'm thinking
It won't be the first - heart that you break
It won't be the last - beautiful girl
The one that you wrecked - won't take you back
If you were the last beautiful girl in the world
It's over now - and I've gone without
Cuz you're everybody else's girl
It seems to me - you'll always be
Everyone else's girl
Everyone else's girl
This will all fall down
Like everything in the world
This too must end
And all the words we said
We can't take back
It won't be the first - heart that you break
It won't be the last - beautiful girl
The one that you wrecked - won't take you back
If you were the last...
It won't be the first - heart that you break
It won't be the last - beautiful girl
The one that you wrecked - won't take you back
If you were the last beautiful girl in the world
The last beautiful girl in the world
You are the last beautiful girl in the world
Beautiful girl

Ominous Lord Spoonblade
Wednesday, November 5th, 2003, 10:23 PM
Quotes are great too :D Especially this one:

"Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned,
Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned."
-William Congreve

The following are by Oscar Wilde (that clever bugger! :P )

"The Book of Life begins with a man and woman in a garden, and it ends with Revelations."

"A woman with no past has no future."

"Those who are faithless know the pleasures of love; it is the faithful who know love's tragedies."

"Polygamy is one wife too many. Monogamy is the same"

Vojvoda
Wednesday, November 5th, 2003, 10:25 PM
"Those who are faithless know the pleasures of love; it is the faithful who know love's tragedies."

A quote to live by I suppose:D

Vojvoda
Wednesday, November 5th, 2003, 10:30 PM
"There are a number of mechanical devices which increase sexual arousal, particularly in women.

Chief among these is the Mercedes-Benz 380SL convertible."

P.J O'Rourke

Ominous Lord Spoonblade
Wednesday, November 5th, 2003, 10:52 PM
More by Parker:

Two-Volume Novel

The sun's gone dim, and
The moon's turned black;
For I loved him, and
He didn't love back.


The Last Question

New love, new love, where are you to lead me?
All along a narrow way that marks a crooked line.
How are you to slake me, and how are you to feed me?
With bitter yellow berries, and a sharp new wine.

New love, new love, shall I be forsaken?
One shall go a-wandering, and one of us must sigh.
Sweet it is to slumber, but how shall we awaken-
Whose will be the broken heart, when dawn comes by?


One Perfect Rose

A single flow'r he sent me, since we met.
All tenderly his messenger he chose;
Deep-hearted, pure, with scented dew still wet-
One perfect rose.

I knew the language of the floweret;
"My fragile leaves," it said, "his heart enclose."
Love long has taken for his amulet
One perfect rose.

Why is it no one ever sent me yet
One perfect limousine, do you suppose?
Ah no, it's always just my luck to get
One perfect rose.


News Item

Men seldom make passes
At girls who wear glasses.


I just love the cynicism in her writing, what can I say!? :D

Vojvoda
Wednesday, November 5th, 2003, 10:55 PM
News Item

Men seldom make passes
At girls who wear glasses.


hehe not true:)


"Some of us think holding on makes us strong;But sometimes it is letting go."- Herman Hesse

Ominous Lord Spoonblade
Wednesday, November 5th, 2003, 11:08 PM
"Some of us think holding on makes us strong;But sometimes it is letting go."- Herman Hesse

That's a good one :)


Oh, how could I forget Mae West?!

"Marriage is a great institution, but I'm not ready for an institution."

"Women with pasts interest men... they hope history will repeat itself."

"It is better to be looked over than overlooked."

"When women go wrong, men go right after them."

:giggle

Scáthach
Wednesday, November 5th, 2003, 11:47 PM
Jean Harlow - ''I like to wake up each morning feeling a new man.'' :D

Gladstone
Thursday, November 6th, 2003, 12:59 AM
There is only one happiness in life,
to love and be loved.-George Sand

Love is friendship set on fire.-Jeremy Taylor

Gladstone
Thursday, November 6th, 2003, 01:20 AM
Tho I don't particularly agree with it it's worth noting

Love is never having to say your sorry.-the movie "Love Story" (1970)

Ominous Lord Spoonblade
Thursday, November 6th, 2003, 02:12 AM
Tho I don't particularly agree with it it's worth noting

Love is never having to say your sorry.-the movie "Love Story" (1970)

Yeah, I thought that love meant always having to say your sorry! Even if you haven't done anything! :D

cosmocreator
Thursday, November 6th, 2003, 02:33 AM
Yeah, I thought that love meant always having to say your sorry! Even if you haven't done anything! :D


Only for the man.

Gladstone
Thursday, November 6th, 2003, 03:41 AM
Yeah, I thought that love meant always having to say your sorry! Even if you haven't done anything! :D

Parker seems to be rubbing of on ya.;)

Gladstone
Thursday, November 6th, 2003, 05:28 PM
Happy Together

by The Turtles

Imagine me and you, I do
I think about you day and night
It's only right
To think about the girl you love
And hold her tight
So happy together

If I should call you up
Invest a dime
And you say you belong to me
And ease my mind
Imagine how the world could be
So very fine
So happy together

{Refrain}
I can't see me loving nobody but you
For all my life
When you're with me
Baby the skies will be blue
For all my life

Me and you
And you and me
No matter how they tossed the dice
It had to be
The only one for me is you
And you for me
So happy together

{Refrain}

Me and you
And you and me
No matter how they tossed the dice
It had to be
The only one for me is you
And you for me
So happy together

Me and you
And you and me
No matter how they tossed the dice
It had to be
The only one for me is you
And you for me
So happy together
So happy together
How is the weather
So happy together
We're happy together
So happy together...

Sigrun Christianson
Thursday, November 6th, 2003, 05:37 PM
Only for the man.
True, true... keep that in mind and you'll have no problem in a relationship. :D

Sigrun Christianson
Thursday, November 6th, 2003, 05:42 PM
Bridge Over Troubled Water

When you're weary, feeling small
When tears are in your eyes, I will dry them all;
I'm on your side. When times get rough
And friends just can't be found,
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down

When you're down and out,
When you're on the street,
When evening falls so hard
I will comfort you.
I'll take your part.
When darkness comes
And pain is all around,
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down.
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down

Sail on silvergirl
Sail on by.
Your time has come to shine.
All your dreams are on their way.
If you need a friend
I'm sailing right behind.
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will ease your mind.
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will ease your mind.

:weep

Gladstone
Thursday, November 6th, 2003, 05:45 PM
Babooshka

by Kate Bush

She wanted to test her husband.
She knew exactly what to do:
A pseudonym to fool him.
She couldn't have made a worse move.

She sent him scented letters,
And he received them with a strange delight.
Just like his wife
But how she was before the tears,
And how she was before the years flew by,
And how she was when she was beautiful.
She signed the letter

"All yours,
Babooshka, Babooshka, Babooshka-ya-ya!
All yours,
Babooshka, Babooshka, Babooshka-ya-ya!"

She wanted to take it further,
So she arranged a place to go,
To see if he
Would fall for her incognito.
And when he laid eyes on her,
He got the feeling they had met before.
Uncanny how she
Reminds him of his little lady,
Capacity to give him all he needs,
Just like his wife before she freezed on him,
Just like his wife when she was beautiful.
He shouted out, "I'm

All yours,
Babooshka, Babooshka, Babooshka-ya-ya!
All yours,
Babooshka, Babooshka, Babooshka-ya-ya!
All yours,
Babooshka, Babooshka, Babooshka-ya-ya!"

Sigrun Christianson
Thursday, November 6th, 2003, 05:48 PM
Someone To Watch Over Me

There's a saying old
Says that love is blind -
Still we're often told,
"Seek and ye shall find."
So I'm going to seek
A certain lad I've had in mind.
Looking everywhere,
Haven't found him yet;
He's the big affair
I cannot forget.
Only man I ever
Think of with regret.
I'd like to add his initials to my monogram.
Tell me, where is the shepherd for this lost
lamb.

There's a somebody I'm longing to see
I hope that he
Turns out to be
Someone who'll watch over me.
I'm a little lamb who's lost in the wood.
I know I could
Always be good
To one who'll watch over me.
Although he may not be the man some
Girls think of as handsome
To my heart he carries the key.
Won't you tell him please to put on some
speed -
Follow my lead -
Oh! How I need
Someone to watch over me.
Someone to watch over me.


I sing this one all the time when I'm home alone. :D

Gladstone
Thursday, November 6th, 2003, 06:29 PM
Strange love indeed! Almost s&m even.;)

Strangelove

by Depeche Mode

There’ll be times
When my crimes
Will seem almost unforgivable
I give in to sin
Because you have to make this life liveable
But when you think I’ve had enough
From your sea of love
I’ll take more than another riverfull
And I’ll make it all worthwhile
I’ll make your heart smile

Strangelove
Strange highs and strange lows
Strangelove
That’s how my love goes
Strangelove
Will you give it to me
Will you take the pain
I will give to you
Again and again
And will you return it

There’ll be days
When I’ll stray
I may appear to be
Constantly out of reach
I give in to sin
Because I like to practise what I preach
I’m not trying to say
I’ll have it all my way
I’m always willing to learn
When you’ve got something to teach
And I’ll make it all worthwhile
I’ll make your heart smile

Pain will you return it
I’ll say it again -- pain
Pain will you return it
I won’t say it again

I give in
Again and again
I give in
Will you give it to me
I give in
I’ll say it again
I give in

I give in
Again and again
I give in
That’s how my love goes
I give in
I’ll say it again
I give in

Phlegethon
Thursday, November 6th, 2003, 09:55 PM
Black Sabbath: Warning (1970)





Now the first day that I met ya

I was looking in the sky

When the sun turned all a blur

and the thunderclouds rolled by

The sea began to shiver

and the wind began to moan

It must've been a sign for me

to leave you well alone

I was born without you, baby

but my feelings were a little bit too strong



you never said you love me

and I don't believe you can

'cause I saw you in a dream

and you were with another man

You looked so cool and casual

and I tried to look the same

But now I've got to know ya

tell me who am I to blame?

I was born without you, baby

but my feelings were a little bit too strong



Now the whole wide world is movin'

'cause there's iron in my heart

I just can't keep from cryin'

'cause you say we've got to part

Sorrow grips my voice as I stand here all alone

And watch you slowly take away

a love I've never known

I was born without you, baby

but my feelings were a little bit too strong

Phlegethon
Thursday, November 6th, 2003, 09:58 PM
Black Sabbath: "Solitude" (1973)





My name it means nothing

my fortune is less

My future is shrouded in dark wilderness

Sunshine is far away, clouds linger on

Everything I possessed - Now they are gone

They are gone

They are gone





Oh where can I go to and what can I do?

Nothing can please me only thoughts are of you

You just laughed when I begged you to stay

I've not stopped crying since you went away



The world is a lonely place - you're on your own

Guess I will go home - sit down and moan.

Crying and thinking is all that I do

Memories I have remind me of you

Scáthach
Thursday, November 6th, 2003, 10:32 PM
Lines Written in a Blank Leaf of the ‘ Prometheus Unbound’

Write it in gold - a Spirit of the sun,
An Intellect ablaze with heavenly thoughts,
A soul with all the dews of pathos shining,
Odorous with love, and sweet to silent woe
With the dark glories of concentrate song,
Was sphered in mortal earth. Angelic sounds
Alive with panting thoughts sunned the dim world.
The bright creations of an human heart
Wrought magic in the bosoms of mankind.
A flooding summer burst on Poetry;
Of which the crowning sun, the night of beauty,
The dancing showers, the birds, whose anthems wild
Note after note unbind the enchanted leaves
Of breaking buds, eve, and the flow of dawn,
Were centred and condensed in his one name
As in a providence - and that was SHELLEY.
Oxford 1822


- Thomas Lovell Beddoes


------------------------

''When a liberal is abused, he says:
Thank God they didn't beat me. When
he is beaten, he thanks God they
didn't kill him. When he is killed, he
will thank God that his immortal soul
has been delivered from its mortal clay.''

--------------

No beast so fierce but knows some touch of pity.

Sigrun Christianson
Thursday, November 6th, 2003, 10:38 PM
Reading this thread is so depressing...:puppyeyes

Scáthach
Thursday, November 6th, 2003, 10:39 PM
So is love ;)

Taras Bulba
Thursday, November 6th, 2003, 11:18 PM
Yes indeed love is so depressing! But then again I'm probally speaking from two biases. First one, being that the only kind of love I've experianced has been unrequited love. Second one, being my Slavic(or specifically Russian) inclination for romantic tragedies.

I believe Pushkin himself said that romantic tragedies are more interesting than romantic happy ends; there can only be one happy ending but there can be so many different ways to end in tragedy.

Gladstone
Thursday, November 6th, 2003, 11:41 PM
I believe Pushkin himself said that romantic tragedies are more interesting than romantic happy ends; there can only be one happy ending but there can be so many different ways to end in tragedy.

Pushkin might have something of a point there. You got the happy ending of the couple going off into the sunset, as compared to the tragedy of lovers losing one or the other, sometimes both, thru war, ship wreck, act of God, etc., etc.

But seriously I think society expects too much out of "love". It's so hyped up and people have unrealistic expectations. Marriage is a big example of that particularly for women it seems. I think it's a lot better to look at the ideal mate as simply the very best friend of the opposite sex rather than this quest for "true love" so many are on. And that friendship over time may turn into true love, provided it started out as a healthy friendship.

But for God's sake the worst thing a person could do is go out looking for "true love" as that's almost a guarantee it won't happen.

Sigrun Christianson
Thursday, November 6th, 2003, 11:46 PM
But for God's sake the worst thing a person could do is go out looking for "true love" as that's almost a guarantee it won't happen.I agree with that.

Anyone who has been in a relationship for more than a year or so knows that the lusty passionate fireworks fade away and then you are left with this other human that you better really and like and respect, or it's over.

Edit - I really like that lusty passionate phase, though! :bounce

Taras Bulba
Friday, November 7th, 2003, 02:42 AM
But seriously I think society expects too much out of "love". It's so hyped up and people have unrealistic expectations. Marriage is a big example of that particularly for women it seems. I think it's a lot better to look at the ideal mate as simply the very best friend of the opposite sex rather than this quest for "true love" so many are on. And that friendship over time may turn into true love, provided it started out as a healthy friendship.

But for God's sake the worst thing a person could do is go out looking for "true love" as that's almost a guarantee it won't happen.

I agree with you Gladstone. Whenever I'm attracted to a woman, I don't show off my romantic intentions right away but try to start off a simple friendship and move from there. People are continually telling me thats why I've never been able to enter a relationship(because women supposedly never fall in love with "friends"), but the alternative simply doesn't make sense in my mind. What good is a lover if you can appreciate them first as a friend?

Gladstone
Friday, November 7th, 2003, 04:34 PM
What good is a lover if you can't appreciate them first as a friend?

Exactly.

Ominous Lord Spoonblade
Friday, November 7th, 2003, 08:54 PM
I don't think it works out to a relationship if you become good friends -nothing wrong with getting to know eachother though of course. But, if a woman just becomes your friend, it's simply because she just wants to be your friend, nothing more. I think the best thing to do is to ask someone on a date and show that you have romantic intentions. You can get to know someone just as well that way. The only thing is if it moves too fast and it becomes just about lust and sex. Though if it does move too fast it could just be a part of initial passion which doesn't always mean that the relationship will end up being only sexual.

Most guys never want to be "just friends", or even friends first! They do get very friendly though :lol

Anyway, guys, stay out of the "friend zone" if you don't want to have any heartache ;)

Ominous Lord Spoonblade
Tuesday, December 23rd, 2003, 07:30 PM
I wrote a..um..love...poem, so I thought I'd post it and bring back this loverly thread! :-D


You're the Reason I Shave My Legs

Your love is like a laser
I can't get you out of my head
You got me reachin' for my razor
Just in case we go to bed

You make me so very happy
In the morning I'll cook you eggs
I'll do anything you ask of me
'Cause you're the reason I shave my legs

Oh if I think that you'll be there
I worry about how I look
You got me thinkin' about body hair
And whether or not I can cook

I really hope that you like pie
Because I baked you a whole stack
Not one word of a lie,
Your lovin' is like crack!

I love the way you make me beg
And have me waiting by the phone
You're the reason I shave my legs
Please just take me to your home!


But now it's time,
To end this rhyme,
Please don't think I'm mean!
Because if I keep going on...
It's going to get obscene!

Ewergrin
Tuesday, December 23rd, 2003, 07:38 PM
I wrote a..um..love...poem, so I thought I'd post it and bring back this loverly thread! :-D


You're the Reason I Shave My Legs

Your love is like a laser
I can't get you out of my head
You got me reachin' for my razor
Just in case we go to bed

You make me so very happy
In the morning I'll cook you eggs
I'll do anything you ask of me
'Cause you're the reason I shave my legs

Oh if I think that you'll be there
I worry about how I look
You got me thinkin' about body hair
And whether or not I can cook

I really hope that you like pie
Because I baked you a whole stack
Not one word of a lie,
Your lovin' is like crack!

I love the way you make me beg
And have me waiting by the phone
You're the reason I shave my legs
Please just take me to your home!


But now it's time,
To end this rhyme,
Please don't think I'm mean!
Because if I keep going on...
It's going to get obscene!


Excellent poem, Vanessa. Too bad it seems that today woman are more interested in breaking the "glass ceiling" and being strong, independant, and educated (three things a woman should never be) than worrying about attracting the attention of a man she likes.

Ewergrin
Tuesday, December 23rd, 2003, 07:53 PM
What good is a lover if you can appreciate them first as a friend?


100% agreed. I was reminded of this fact one time during a particularly nasty break up. I was having problems with a long time serious girlfriend (whom I lived with), and I was feeling rather down in the dumps because the man I consider to be my best friend had moved away, and I felt sort of alone because of his departure.. My mood then provoked a fight between my girlfriend and I, and she made the comment to me about "but I'm your best friend, too," and it suddenly dawned on me that my true best friend was standing right there in front of me and had always been there and always would be (except of course for the fact that I took her heart and ripped it to shreds anyways.)

Scáthach
Wednesday, December 24th, 2003, 02:50 AM
Why should a woman never be educated? Indeed, it is quite a loose term i.e you may mean a female should not hold a degree or perhaps not attend ''high school'' (American words!ah!hehe) or maybe even that women should not be intelligent and as such are better if stupid?

Taras Bulba
Wednesday, December 24th, 2003, 03:29 AM
Why should a woman never be educated? Indeed, it is quite a loose term i.e you may mean a female should not hold a degree or perhaps not attend ''high school'' (American words!ah!hehe) or maybe even that women should not be intelligent and as such are better if stupid?
Who said women shouldn't be educated?

Personally I don't mind a woman who has some intelligence, I just hate women who think of themselves as intellectuals cause more often than not the stuff that comes out their mouths is absolute nonsense!

BTW, I do believe studies have shown that women have lower IQs than man. bwahahaha ;-)

Scáthach
Monday, December 29th, 2003, 08:43 PM
I am absolutely sure women do have lower IQ's in general! (There are of course exceptions, I am one ;-) )
I do find men for the most part are more intelligent, creative and most importantly less concerned with trivial matters - which, generally, women take as their main concern!
The best musicians, novelists, poets, playwrights and artists have tended to be male...there are a thousand reasons for everything but this just seems to be the case for most men and women..