 |
Poems On Site: 198,500+ Comments On Poems: 427,000+ Forum Posts: 105,000+ |
Custom Search
|
|
|
||||
| Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 01-June 10:42:12 AEST | ||
|
|
||||
|
|
||||
|
|
||||
|
Array
(
[sid] => 178633
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Adam
[time] => 2014-06-27 19:59:27
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => In her small feet the sound of many songbirds, warm spring air, luminary colors. Where the soft seam of her thigh ends there is infinite richness. In the white skin that covers the starlight of her hips there are many clear rivers; I am turned over in their swift currents. Where her cheek bends slowly to become her chin, I have seen the birth of suns. In the roundness of her lips I have felt the depth of night, the crowded distances of stars. Her dark eyes are like shimmering plums, moist, the sweetness of their gaze is not mirrored in the earth. The way her hair falls like bright rain, like warm winds over falling waves, the calm wash of rejuvenating waters. When she is absent from the garden I suffer greatly. The apples that glint like rubies, the translucent, emerald grasses and leaves, the sand that is like diamonds, the deep fluctuating azure of this river, the golden aura that emanates from the bark of these tress - they are all as so much turning ash. When she is absent they are naught, for none can sate my hunger - none can be pleasing for I have thirst. God for his created world does not love as I love. Though he turned chaos with his strength into universe, he does not know. In me there is emptiness. In my stems and marrow there is emptiness. She is of my rib I know because I desire to possess her. She is of my rib I know for when she moves about me, when I know the gentle lightning of her touch, my brokenness is healed. I could forgive her until the stars are torn from sockets, until creation dazzles into abyss, until the lord of things is forced, to form a second everything, I could forgive her for stealing Eden from my sons; I could forgive her for sundering the earth from paradise. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 149 [topic] => 2 [informant] => Socreights [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => LovePoetry )
|
Menu
· 
Poetry
Community
Members
Areas
Reference
Search
Top
Others
Poetry is much like a great photo, a single "moment in time" capturing many feelings and emotions. Yet, they are very alive; creating stirrings within the readers who form visual "pictures" of the expressed emotions within the Poem. ©
Opinions expressed in the poetry, comments, forums etc. on this site are not necessarily those of this site, its owners and/or operators; but of the individuals who post items to this site.
Frequently Asked Questions | | | Privacy Policy | | | Contact Webmaster
All submitted items are Copyright © to their submitter. All the rest Copyright © 2002-2050 by Your Poetry Dot Com
All logos and trademarks in this site are property of their respective owners.
Script Generation Time: 0.052 Seconds. - View our Site Map | .© your-poetry.com