Passion Is
Passion is
A speck of crimson red
That invades an otherwise blank canvas
Rendering it impossible for the untrained eye
To see anything but
Red
Passion is the notes of a piano
That resonate into the chords of your soul,
Composing a chorus of crescendos;
A template for all that is beautiful.
But more than this,
Passion is what I feel in your embrace,
Completely saturated by your breath,
Your smell,
Your touch.
In the same way the earth thirsts for and absorbs the rain,
I would take you into me forever,
Without a thought of the consequences,
Without a thought of anything else.
A speck of crimson red
That invades an otherwise blank canvas
Rendering it impossible for the untrained eye
To see anything but
Red
Passion is the notes of a piano
That resonate into the chords of your soul,
Composing a chorus of crescendos;
A template for all that is beautiful.
But more than this,
Passion is what I feel in your embrace,
Completely saturated by your breath,
Your smell,
Your touch.
In the same way the earth thirsts for and absorbs the rain,
I would take you into me forever,
Without a thought of the consequences,
Without a thought of anything else.
posted by D-Rocks at 11:15 PM
6 Comments:
wow. WOW.
My, my, Blue-shoes! I'm impressed. Maybe I should give you more credit. So glad you're not just another pretty face. I'll read the other posts in more detail later.
Beautiful poem David! I think you might enjoy Rumi’s poetry.
Those who don't feel this Love
pulling them like a river,
those who don't drink dawn
like a cup of spring water
or take in sunset like supper,
those who don't want to change,
let them sleep.
This Love is beyond the study of theology,that old trickery and hypocrisy.
I you want to improve your mind that way,
sleep on.
I've given up on my brain.
I've torn the cloth to shreds
and thrown it away.
If you're not completely naked,
wrap your beautiful robe of words
around you,
and sleep.
Maulana Jalal al-Din Balkhi (Rumi)
Rumi at his best:
Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and right doing there is a field. I'll meet you there. When the soul lies down in that grass, the world is too full to talk about. Ideas, language, even the phrase "each other" doesn't make any sense.
Wow… so you know RumiJ I love it! And yet this is only a translation. Nothing compares to the Dari readings of his work. The passion, the intensity…
Passion makes the old medicine new:
Passion lops off the bough of weariness.
Passion is the elixir that renews:
how can there be weariness
when passion is present?
Oh, don't sigh heavily from fatigue:
seek passion, seek passion, seek passion!
Rumi.
In front of Starbucks- there is field
I’ll meet you there
You will recognize me-
I will carry the red flag
I will meet you late at night
Or early morning
I will chose sunny day
Or rainy afternoon
I will meet you cheerful and happy
Or with tears in my eyes
I will tell you about my great day
Or failures of the past
I will meet you in silence
I will meet you in noise
I will meet you in colorful dress
But everything about me will be black and white
Only the flag I will carry will be red…
G.
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