Song from Arcadia:

“My True Love Hath My Heart”

BY SIR PHILIP SIDNEY

My true-love hath my heart and I have his,

By just exchange one for the other given:

I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss;

There never was a bargain better driven.

His heart in me keeps me and him in one;

My heart in him his thoughts and senses guides:

He loves my heart, for once it was his own;

I cherish his because in me it bides.

His heart his wound received from my sight;

My heart was wounded with his wounded heart;

For as from me on him his hurt did light,

So still, methought, in me his hurt did smart:

Both equal hurt, in this change sought our bliss,

My true love hath my heart and I have his.

   

To You, My Heart

March 24, 2013

I have come to great resolve

and must attest,

bare chested and with the wealth of every beat,

that had I but one last breath,

it would belong to you.

*

Spacious valves

dazzled skin

and captured soul,

Orchestrated by the abounding measures of an enchanted organ.

*

 Awash in the corners of each chamber

are your prints, apparent and benign.

*

Alive inside mellifluous veins

streams the rapture of a discovered being.

*

But my castle of bones, how quickly they do relent.

Not withstanding, my crux remains,

past soil, bloom, and flight

an immeasurable part of you.

*

Opulent warmth

fermented dreams

& imbued crimson

Splashed inside an infinitely swelling fortress.

*

In the simplest of terms,

You are therefore I beat.

Ramblings on Deaf Ears

January 8, 2013

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By: Magnolia

I’m not supposed to, but I do.

I’m pushing against an emotion that encompasses you.

Anything you say shouldn’t matter, but it does,

Everything you do makes me dream of what never was.

Although you exist in form and we see each-other every day,

To you, the true me is a stranger, with the whole of me just wanting you to go away.

But a part of me, a part of me yearns for you to stay.

You are the cause of heavy, nostalgic moving possibilities,

Yet every time we face, my mouth runs away and my heart works with great difficulty.

And my clumsiness, well that’s just displaced and gibbered poetry,

Brought to you by a heart, innocent and nervy.

Like gray clouds, straining to hold buckets of water in its nest,

Or a butterfly trapped inside a cocoons beating chest;

I hold this undefined, rapturous feeling, for you.

With abstruse hope that in discovering me, there’ll be a breakthrough.

To know me is to want me, as knowing you has led to unrequited anxiety.

Maybe you are worst than the parts I’ve dreamt up,

In fact my mind is pleading for my heart to wake up.

But a glimmer of hope is all that’s needed to keep this feeling afloat.

So let’s make a deal, let me be your first lifeboat.

To keep you dry before you’re soaked,

To illuminate your mind and to allow your heart and mine to convoke.

To shake the ground beneath your feet, to make you feel reborn,

To speak unspoken words & cheer you up when you’re forlorn.

And for me? All I ask for is my discovery.

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