‘A LOVE SONG’ – A POEM BY D.H.LAWRENCE !

” A Love Song ”

REJECT me not if I should say to
you
I do forget the sounding of your
voice,
I do forget your eyes that
searching through
The mists perceive our marriage,
and rejoice.
Yet, when the apple-blossom
opens wide

Under the pallid moonlight’s
fingering,
I see your blanched face at my
breast, and hide
My eyes from diligent work,
malingering.
Ah, then, upon my bedroom I do
draw
The blind to hide the garden,
where the moon

Enjoys the open blossoms as they
straw
Their beauty for his taking, boon
for boon.
And I do lift my aching arms to
you,
And I do lift my anguished, avid
breast,
And I do weep for very pain of
you,

And fling myself at the doors of
sleep, for rest.
And I do toss through the
troubled night for you,
Dreaming your yielded mouth is
given to mine,
Feeling your strong breast carry
me on into
The peace where sleep is
stronger even than wine.

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‘LOVE’S MEMORY’ -A POEM BY JENNIFER MOXLEY !

”Love’s Memory”

How few are the
events in human life
so needful and so
dear that they
succeed
in placating the
causes of our strife—
the empty ache and
slights of worldly
need,
the petty battles over
bits of earth,
the smalltime
mongers dueling for
the dung
of each other’s
constructions,
without breadth
or vision past the
day-to-day, the
strong
yet cowardly tyrants
of our devastated
worth.
If tragedy can awake
the sleeping clock
of our quotidian
compromise, and
fear
repeal our surety,
and we’ll not talk
of change without
them, they’re a
measure dear
for they can demolish
love—potential,
unrealized, or infirm
—which can extend
our possibilities. In
records real
love stores worth
and stems fears that
in the end
the soul’s arrest is
threaded to the
existential.
Records such as
these cannot be
destroyed,
they thrive protected
in the hearts of those
who live on, and
elsewhere, they are
employed
in reveries upon
waking, as foes
against the psychic
harm brought on by
false
friends. Fragments of
our censored inner
life
love files away from
further touch—all
falls
to matter—where
silence lives on as
safe
traces of cut desire
incised in tissue
walls.

JENNIFER MOXLEY.

‘LOVE SONG’ -A POEM BY WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS !

williamseisenstadtLG

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“Love Song”
I lie here thinking of you:—
the stain of love
is upon the world!
Yellow, yellow, yellow
it eats into the leaves,
smears with saffron
the horned branches that lean
heavily
against a smooth purple sky!
There is no light
only a honey-thick stain
that drips from leaf to leaf
and limb to limb
spoiling the colors
of the whole world—
you far off there under
the wine-red selvage of the west!
William Carlos Williams
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‘LOVE LETTER’ -A POEM BY SYLVIA PLATH !

sylvia-plath

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“LOVE LETTER”

Not easy to state the change you
made.
If I’m alive now, then I was dead,
Though, like a stone, unbothered
by it,
Staying put according to habit.
You didn’t just tow me an inch,
no-
Nor leave me to set my small bald
eye
Skyward again, without hope, of
course,
Of apprehending blueness, or
stars.
That wasn’t it. I slept, say: a
snake
Masked among black rocks as a
black rock
In the white hiatus of winter-
Like my neighbors, taking no
pleasure
In the million perfectly-chisled
Cheeks alighting each moment to
melt
My cheeks of basalt. They turned
to tears,
Angels weeping over dull
natures,
But didn’t convince me. Those
tears froze.
Each dead head had a visor of
ice.
And I slept on like a bent finger.
The first thing I was was sheer
air
And the locked drops rising in
dew
Limpid as spirits. Many stones lay
Dense and expressionless round
about.
I didn’t know what to make of it.
I shone, mice-scaled, and
unfolded
To pour myself out like a fluid
Among bird feet and the stems
of plants.
I wasn’t fooled. I knew you at
once.
Tree and stone glittered, without
shadows.
My finger-length grew lucent as
glass.
I started to bud like a March
twig:
An arm and a leg, and arm, a leg.
From stone to cloud, so I
ascended.
Now I resemble a sort of god
Floating through the air in my
soul-shift
Pure as a pane of ice. It’s a gift.

Sylvia Plath.

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‘LOVE SONG’ -A POEM BY JOSEPH BRODSKY !

joseph-brodsky31

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“LOVE SONG”

If you were drowning, I’d come
to the rescue,
wrap you in my blanket and pour
hot tea.
If I were a sheriff, I’d arrest you
and keep you in the cell under
lock and key.
If you were a bird, I ‘d cut a
record
and listen all night long to your
high-pitched trill.
If I were a sergeant, you’d be my
recruit,
and boy i can assure you you’d
love the drill.
If you were Chinese, I’d learn the
languages,
burn a lot of incense, wear funny
clothes.
If you were a mirror, I’d storm
the Ladies,
give you my red lipstick and puff
your nose.
If you loved volcanoes, I’d be lava
renlentlessly erupting from my
hidden source.
And if you were my wife, I’d be
your lover
because the church is firmly
against divorce.

JOSEPH BRODSKY.

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‘LOVESONG’ -A POEM BY TED HUGHES !

NPG P1673; Ted Hughes by Rollie McKenna

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“Lovesong”

He loved her and she loved him.
His kisses sucked out her whole
past and future or tried to
He had no other appetite
She bit him she gnawed him she
sucked
She wanted him complete inside
her
Safe and sure forever and ever
Their little cries fluttered into the
curtains
Her eyes wanted nothing to get
away
Her looks nailed down his hands
his wrists his elbows
He gripped her hard so that life
Should not drag her from that
moment
He wanted all future to cease
He wanted to topple with his
arms round her
Off that moment’s brink and into
nothing
Or everlasting or whatever there
was
Her embrace was an immense
press
To print him into her bones
His smiles were the garrets of a
fairy palace
Where the real world would
never come
Her smiles were spider bites
So he would lie still till she felt
hungry
His words were occupying
armies
Her laughs were an assassin’s
attempts
His looks were bullets daggers of
revenge
His glances were ghosts in the
corner with horrible secrets
His whispers were whips and
jackboots
Her kisses were lawyers steadily
writing
His caresses were the last hooks
of a castaway
Her love-tricks were the grinding
of locks
And their deep cries crawled
over the floors
Like an animal dragging a great
trap
His promises were the surgeon’s
gag
Her promises took the top off his
skull
She would get a brooch made of
it
His vows pulled out all her
sinews
He showed her how to make a
love-knot
Her vows put his eyes in formalin
At the back of her secret drawer
Their screams stuck in the wall
Their heads fell apart into sleep
like the two halves
Of a lopped melon, but love is
hard to stop
In their entwined sleep they
exchanged arms and legs
In their dreams their brains took
each other hostage
In the morning they wore each
other’s face.

Ted Hughes.

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