Love poems

/ page 5 of 1285 /

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If only we too could discover a pure contained
human place our own strip of fruit-bearing soil
between river and rock. For our own heart always exceeds us
as theirs did. And we can no longer follow it gazing
into images that soothe it into the godlike bodies
where measured more greatly if achieves a greater repose.

The Gazelle

© Rainer Maria Rilke

Enchanted thing: how can two chosen words
ever attain the harmony of pure rhyme
that pulses through you as your body stirs?
Out of your forehead branch and lyre climb

Duino Elegies

© Rainer Maria Rilke

The First Elegy

Victory

© Adrienne Rich

Suddenly instead of art we're eyeing
organisms traced and stained on cathedral transparencies
cruel blues embroidered purples succinct yellows
a beautiful tumor

Two Songs

© Adrienne Rich

1.

Sex, as they harshly call it,

Stepping Backward

© Adrienne Rich

Good-by to you whom I shall see tomorrow,

Next year and when I'm fifty; still good-by.

Snapshots of a Daughter-In-Law

© Adrienne Rich

You, once a belle in Shreveport,
with henna-colored hair, skin like a peachbud,
still have your dresses copied from that time,
and play a Chopin prelude
called by Cortot: "Delicious recollections
float like perfume through the memory."

Shattered Head

© Adrienne Rich

A life hauls itself uphill

through hoar-mist steaming

Paula Becker to Clara Westhoff

© Adrienne Rich

The autumn feels slowed down,

summer still holds on here, even the light

My Mouth Hovers Across Your Breasts

© Adrienne Rich

My mouth hovers across your breasts

in the short grey winter afternoon

Living In Sin

© Adrienne Rich

She had thought the studio would keep itself;

no dust upon the furniture of love.

From an Atlas of the Difficult World

© Adrienne Rich

I know you are reading this poem

late, before leaving your office

For the Dead

© Adrienne Rich

I dreamed I called you on the telephone
to say: Be kinder to yourself
but you were sick and would not answer

The One in Paradise

© Edgar Allan Poe

THOU wast that all to me love
For which my soul did pine --
A green isle in the sea love
A fountain and a shrine
All wreathed with fairy fruits and flowers
And all the flowers were mine.

Death and Co

© Sylvia Plath

Two, of course there are two.
It seems perfectly natural now——
The one who never looks up, whose eyes are lidded
And balled¸ like Blake's.
Who exhibits

Comment

Oh, life is a glorious cycle of song,
A medley of extemporanea;
And love is a thing that can never go wrong;
And I am Marie of Roumania.

All because i loved you

© Olu Oguibe

once i wrote with the irreverence of youth

and the fire of a heart burning to ash

Overheard on a Saltmarsh

© Harold Monro

They are better than stars or water,
Better than voices of winds that sing,
Better than any man's fair daughter,
Your green glass beads on a silver ring.