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In Praise of Love…for Valentine’s Day

Considering You

by Amirh

Look here. I’m reading. Wondering.

Unraveling cotton, denim, from you. Your body,

I know, must be a queen’s banquet. A sprawl

Of maroon tastes & aromas,

Violet  textures & terrains.

Is it?

Tart, like Japanese plums? I ask.

They’re the color of pumpernickel, yes?

Tell me.

The Word

by Amirh

Be still for a moment

I am weaving a poem

from the silver in your hair

to be read in whispers

between windy nights of June

between purple dawns of November.

On the other hand

I could cast a poem of coral and turquoise

to be shouted

above the rebellion of rumbling waves

or the rattling bones of Cherokee chiefs

The air is restless and the bumblebees

have forsaken their flight

waiting for the first word to be.

In the beginning was the word of love.

In the end, only this word will endure.

Humor

All you need is love. But a little chocolate now and then doesn’t hurt. Charles M. Schulz

I love Mickey Mouse more than any woman I have ever known. Walt Disney

I want a man who’s kind and understanding. Is that too much to ask of a millionaire? Zsa Zsa Gabor

I’m dating a woman now who, evidently, is unaware of it. Garry Shandling

True love comes quietly, without banners or flashing lights. If you hear bells, get your ears checked. Erich Segal

Look, there’s no metaphysics on earth like chocolates. Fernando Pessoa

Before I met my husband, I’d never fallen in love. I’d stepped in it a few times. Rita Rudner

Anyone who says he can see through women is missing a lot. Groucho Marx

Gravitation is not responsible for people falling in love. Albert Einstein

What the world really needs is more love and less paper work. Pearl Bailey

The last time I saw him he was walking down lover’s lane holding his own hand. Fred Allen

I like a woman with a head on her shoulders. I hate necks. Steve Martin

The only time a woman really succeeds in changing a man is when he is a baby. Natalie Wood

Rumi

A Smile and A Gentleness

There is a smile and a gentleness

inside. When I learned the name

and address of that, I went to where

you sell perfume. I begged you not

to trouble me so with longing. Come

out and play! Flirt more naturally.

Teach me how to kiss. On the ground

a spread blanket, flame that’s caught

and burning well, cumin seeds browning,

I am inside all of this with my soul.

(From Essential Rumi by Coleman Barks)

Let the lover be disgraceful, crazy,

absentminded. Someone sober

will worry about things going badly.

Let the lover be.

(From Essential Rumi)

The Freshness

When it’s cold and raining,

you are more beautiful.

And the snow brings me

even closer to your lips.

The inner secret, that which was never born,

you are that freshness, and I am with you now.

I can’t explain the goings,

or the comings. You enter suddenly,

and I am nowhere again.

Inside the majesty.

(From Soul of Rumi by Coleman Barks)

A single ray in the dawn,
the bliss of our love
is incomprehensible.
No suns shines there, no
moon, no stars, no lightning flash,
not even lamplight.
All things are incandescent
with love which lights up all the world.
–Marichiko (Contemporary) tr. by Kenneth Rexroth.

From the beginning
I knew meeting could only
End in parting, yet
I ignored the coming dawn
And I gave myself to you.
-Fujiwara No Teika tr. Kenneth Rexroth

Life, like a thread piercing
through jewels,
if you must break,
break now!
If I live any longer
I will weaken and show my
hidden love.
-Princess Shikishi tr. Kenneth Rexroth

A Birthday

by Christina Rossetti

My heart is like a singing bird
Whose nest is in a watered shoot;
My heart is like an appletree
Whose boughs are bent with thickset fruit
My heart is like a rainbow shell
That paddles in a halcyon sea;
My heart is gladder than all these
Because my love is come to me.

Raise me a dais of silk and down;
Hang it with vair and purple dyes;
Carve it in doves, and pomegranates,
And peacocks with a hundred eyes;
Work it in gold and silver grapes,
In leaves, and silver fleurs-de-lys;
Because the birthday of my life
Is come, my love is come to me.

Poem for My Love

By June Jordan

How do we come to be here next to each other
in the night
Where are the stars that show us to our love
inevitable
Outside the leaves flame usual in darkness
and the rain
falls cool and blessed on the holy flesh
the black men waiting on the corner for
a womanly mirage
I am amazed by peace
It is this possibility of you
asleep
and breathing in the quiet air

Song of Songs, Which is Solomon’s

(excerpt from the King James Version)

Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth: for thy love is better than wine.

Because of the savour of thy good ointments thy name is as ointment poured forth, therefore do the virgins love thee.

Draw me, we will run after thee: the king hath brought me into his chambers: we will be glad and rejoice in thee, we will

remember thy love more than wine: the upright love thee. I am black, but comely, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, as the

tents of Kedar, as the curtains of Solomon. Look not upon me, because I am black, because the sun hath

looked upon me: my mother’s children were angry with me; they made me the keeper of the vineyards; but mine own vineyard have I not kept.

Tell me, O thou whom my soul loveth, where thou feedest, where

thou makest thy flock to rest at noon: for why should I be as

one that turneth aside by the flocks of thy companions?

If thou know not, O thou fairest among women, go thy way forth

by the footsteps of the flock, and feed thy kids beside the

shepherds’ tents.

I have compared thee, O my love, to a company of horses in

Pharaoh’s chariots.

Thy cheeks are comely with rows of jewels, thy neck with

chains of gold.

We will make thee borders of gold with studs of silver.

While the king sitteth at his table, my spikenard sendeth

forth the smell thereof.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

My beloved is like a roe or a young hart: behold, he standeth

behind our wall, he looketh forth at the windows, shewing

himself through the lattice.

My beloved spake, and said unto me, Rise up, my love, my fair

one, and come away.

For, lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone;

The flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of

birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our

land;

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Behold, thou art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair; thou

hast doves’ eyes within thy locks: thy hair is as a flock of

goats, that appear from mount Gilead.

Thy teeth are like a flock of sheep that are even shorn, which

came up from the washing; whereof every one bear twins, and

none is barren among them.

Thy lips are like a thread of scarlet, and thy speech is

comely: thy temples are like a piece of a pomegranate within

thy locks.

Thy neck is like the tower of David builded for an armoury,

whereon there hang a thousand bucklers, all shields of mighty

men.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

How fair is thy love, my sister, my spouse! how much better is

thy love than wine! and the smell of thine ointments than all

spices!

Thy lips, O my spouse, drop as the honeycomb: honey and milk

are under thy tongue; and the smell of thy garments is like

the smell of Lebanon.

A garden inclosed is my sister, my spouse; a spring shut up, a

fountain sealed.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

I opened to my beloved; but my beloved had withdrawn himself,

and was gone: my soul failed when he spake: I sought him, but

I could not find him; I called him, but he gave me no answer.

The watchmen that went about the city found me, they smote me,

they wounded me; the keepers of the walls took away my veil

from me.

I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if ye find my beloved,

that ye tell him, that I am sick of love.

What is thy beloved more than another beloved, O thou fairest

among women? what is thy beloved more than another beloved,

that thou dost so charge us?

My beloved is white and ruddy, the chiefest among ten

thousand.

His head is as the most fine gold, his locks are bushy, and

black as a raven.

His eyes are as the eyes of doves by the rivers of waters,

washed with milk, and fitly set.

His cheeks are as a bed of spices, as sweet flowers: his lips

like lilies, dropping sweet smelling myrrh.

His hands are as gold rings set with the beryl: his belly is

as bright ivory overlaid with sapphires.

His legs are as pillars of marble, set upon sockets of fine

gold: his countenance is as Lebanon, excellent as the cedars.

His mouth is most sweet: yea, he is altogether lovely. This is

my beloved, and this is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem.

Whither is thy beloved gone, O thou fairest among women?

whither is thy beloved turned aside? that we may seek him with

thee.

My beloved is gone down into his garden, to the beds of

spices, to feed in the gardens, and to gather lilies.

I am my beloved’s, and my beloved is mine: he feedeth among

the lilies.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

How beautiful are thy feet with shoes, O prince’s daughter!

the joints of thy thighs are like jewels, the work of the

hands of a cunning workman.

Thy navel is like a round goblet, which wanteth not liquor:

thy belly is like an heap of wheat set about with lilies.

Thy two breasts are like two young roes that are twins.

Thy neck is as a tower of ivory; thine eyes like the fishpools

in Heshbon, by the gate of Bathrabbim: thy nose is as the

tower of Lebanon which looketh toward Damascus.

Thine head upon thee is like Carmel, and the hair of thine

head like purple; the king is held in the galleries.

How fair and how pleasant art thou, O love, for delights!

This thy stature is like to a palm tree, and thy breasts to

clusters of grapes.

I said, I will go up to the palm tree, I will take hold of the

boughs thereof: now also thy breasts shall be as clusters of

the vine, and the smell of thy nose like apples;

And the roof of thy mouth like the best wine for my beloved,

that goeth down sweetly, causing the lips of those that are

asleep to speak.

I am my beloved’s, and his desire is toward me.

Come, my beloved, let us go forth into the field; let us lodge

in the villages.

Let us get up early to the vineyards; let us see if the vine

flourish, whether the tender grape appear, and the

pomegranates bud forth: there will I give thee my loves.

The mandrakes give a smell, and at our gates are all manner of

pleasant fruits, new and old, which I have laid up for thee, O

my beloved.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Many waters cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown

it: if a man would give all the substance of his house for

love, it would utterly be contemned.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Make haste, my beloved, and be thou like to a roe or to a

young hart upon the mountains of spices.


A Love Poem Written for Sterling Brown

by Sonia Sanchez
(after reading a New York Times article re
a mummy kept preserved for about 300 years)

I’m gonna get me some mummy tape for your love
preserve it for 3000 years or more
I’m gonna let the world see you
tapping a blue shell dance of love

“The Lovers” – Jacob Lawrence

I’m gonna ride your love bareback
on totem poles
bear your image on mountains
turning in ocean sleep
string your sighs thru the rainbow
of old age.
In the midst of desert people and times
I’m gonna fly your red/eagle/laughter ‘cross the sky.

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About Amirh

Ever-evolving spirit moving about via body. I'm a writer and a an ever-evolving spirit in service of animals through my blog and Buddhist and Reiki practices. My blogs: AllCreaturesLargeAndSmall.wordpress.com. and AmirhBahati.wordpress.com. For more about me: https://amirhbahati.wordpress.com/about/

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