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Author
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Topic: What is Love, Really? Please Read
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Randall
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From: I hold a Juris Doctorate (J.D.) and a Legum Magister (LL.M.)!
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posted August 07, 2022 07:17 PM
  
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Randall
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posted September 12, 2022 06:18 PM
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Randall
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posted October 08, 2022 11:21 AM
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Randall
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posted October 25, 2022 05:35 PM
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Randall
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posted November 08, 2022 07:35 PM
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Randall
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posted November 21, 2022 01:43 PM
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Randall
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posted December 02, 2022 11:12 AM
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Randall
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posted January 29, 2023 04:25 PM
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Randall
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posted February 12, 2023 08:22 AM
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Randall
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posted February 25, 2023 07:08 PM
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Randall
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posted March 09, 2023 12:56 PM
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Randall
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posted March 29, 2023 02:12 PM
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Randall
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posted April 11, 2023 09:25 AM
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Randall
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posted May 22, 2023 11:47 AM
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Randall
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posted June 12, 2023 04:19 PM
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Randall
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posted July 02, 2023 12:42 PM
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Eternal Energy
Knowflake Posts: 1829
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Registered: May 2020
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posted July 02, 2023 01:38 PM
Tulips and Chimneys / by Edward Estlin Cummings
Tulips
Orientale I
i spoke to thee
with a smile and thou didst not
answer
thy mouth is as
a chord of crimson music
Come hither
O thou, is life not a smile?
i spoke to thee with
a song and thou
didst not listen
thine eyes are as a vase
of divine silence
Come hither
O thou, is life not a song?
i spoke
to thee with a soul and
thou didst not wonder
thy face is as a dream locked
in white fragrance
Come hither
O thou, is life not love?
i speak to
thee with a sword
and thou art silent
thy breast is as a tomb
softer than flowers
Come hither
O thou, is love not death?
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Eternal Energy
Knowflake Posts: 1829
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posted July 02, 2023 01:38 PM
Double post? Great! This gives me the chance to share one more of Cummings' poems. Let me think for a while...
Since this thread is about love, let's keep on reading about love.
Etcetera: The Unpublished Poems
The Harvard Years, 1911-16 Love Poems
VI
I love you
For your little, startled, thoughtless ways,
For your ponderings, like soft dark birds,
And when you speak ‘tis a sudden sunlight.
I love you
For your wide child eyes, and fluttering hands,
For the little divinities your wrists,
And the beautiful mysteries your fingers. I love you.
Does the blossom study her day of life?
Is the butterfly vexed with an hour of soul?
I had rather a rose than live forever.
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Randall
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posted July 17, 2023 05:28 PM
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Randall
Webmaster Posts: 195279
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posted August 02, 2023 02:06 PM
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Eternal Energy
Knowflake Posts: 1829
From:
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posted August 11, 2023 01:49 AM
Because even if we live in a world where the dissolution of our timebound form is inevitable, there are some things that are forever. These two hands, bonded together upon sacred oath, have sailed into tempestuous winds throughout the years and are still holding each other tight. This is Love. And true love stays. Forever.
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Eternal Energy
Knowflake Posts: 1829
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Registered: May 2020
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posted August 11, 2023 01:51 AM
This man's hand wearing his wife's ring as the passage of time has weakened her hand is beyond words.IP: Logged |
Randall
Webmaster Posts: 195279
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posted September 02, 2023 10:18 AM
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Eternal Energy
Knowflake Posts: 1829
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posted September 10, 2023 08:09 AM
Love can be felt and expressed in so many different forms... Does it mean that this is not love indeed?
Twelfth Night
Act II, Scene IV
DUKE ORSINO
There is no woman's sides
Can bide the beating of so strong a passion
As love doth give my heart; no woman's heart
So big, to hold so much; they lack retention
Alas, their love may be call'd appetite,
No motion of the liver, but the palate,
That suffer surfeit, cloyment and revolt;
But mine is all as hungry as the sea,
And can digest as much: make no compare
Between that love a woman can bear me
And that I owe Olivia.
VIOLA
Ay, but I know-- DUKE ORSINO
What dost thou know? VIOLA
Too well what love women to men may owe:
In faith, they are as true of heart as we.
My father had a daughter loved a man,
As it might be, perhaps, were I a woman,
I should your lordship. DUKE ORSINO
And what's her history? VIOLA
A blank, my lord. She never told her love,
But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud,
Feed on her damask cheek: she pined in thought,
And with a green and yellow melancholy
She sat like patience on a monument,
Smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed?
We men may say more, swear more: but indeed
Our shows are more than will; for still we prove
Much in our vows, but little in our love. DUKE ORSINO
But died thy sister of her love, my boy? VIOLA
I am all the daughters of my father's house,
And all the brothers too: and yet I know not.
Sir, shall I to this lady? DUKE ORSINO
Ay, that's the theme.
To her in haste; give her this jewel; say,
My love can give no place, bide no denay. Exeunt IP: Logged |
Randall
Webmaster Posts: 195279
From: I hold a Juris Doctorate (J.D.) and a Legum Magister (LL.M.)!
Registered: Apr 2009
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posted September 22, 2023 10:52 AM
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Lindaland
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