Love Poems

As odd as it may seem, I had a “semi-date” today. A “semi-blind-date", might I add.

The whole “semi-dating” thing is that it was more of an introduction - a friend of a friend. Blind, as I had never met this person before.

Young Rory O'More courted Kathleen Bawn
He was bold as a hawk and she soft as the dawn
He wished in his heart pretty Kathleen to please
And he thought the best way to do that was to tease.

"Now Rory be easy," sweet Kathleen would cry
Reproof on her lip but a smile in her eye
"With your tricks I don't know in troth what I'm about
Faith you've teased till I've put on my cloak inside out.

"O jewel," says Rory, " that same is the way
You've thrated my heart for this many a day
And tis plaz'd that I am and why not to be sure
For tis all for good luck." says bold Rory O'More.

"Indeed then," says Kathleen," don't think of the like
For I half gave a promise to soothering Mike
The ground that I walk on he loves I'll be bound."
"Faith," says Rory," I'd rather love you than the ground."

"Now Rory I'II cry if you don't let me go
Sure I drcam every night that I'm hating you so"
"Oh," says Rory," that same I'm delighted to hear
For dhrames always go by contrairies my dear."

"O jewel keep dhraming that same till you die
And bright morning will give dirty night the black lie
And tis plaz'd that I am and why not to be sure
Since tis all for good luck," says bold Rory O'More.

"Arrah Kathleen my darling you've teased me enough
Sure I've thrashed for your sake Dinny Grimes and Jim Duff
And I've made myself drinking your health quite a baste
So I think after that I may talk to the priest."

Then Rory the rogue stole his arm round her neck
So soft and so white without freckle or speck
And he looked in her eyes that were beaming with light
And he kissed her sweet lips don't you think he was right.

"Now Rory leave off sir you'll hug me no more
That's eight times today and you've kissed me before"
"Then here goes another," says he, " to make sure
For there's luck in odd numbers." says Rory O'More.

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old Time is still a-flying:
And this same flower that smiles to-day
To-morrow will be dying.

The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun,
The higher he's a-getting,
The sooner will his race be run,
And nearer he's to setting.

That age is best which is the first,
When youth and blood are warmer;
But being spent, the worse, and worst
Times still succeed the former.

Then be not coy, but use your time,
And while ye may, go marry:
For having lost but once your prime,
You may for ever tarry.

I wonder, by my troth, what thou and I
Did, till we loved? were we not weaned till then?
But sucked on country pleasures, childishly?
Or snorted we in the seven sleepers' den?
'Twas so; but this, all pleasures fancies bee.
If ever any beauty I did see,
Which I desired, and got, 'twas but a dream of thee.

And now good morrow to our waking soules,
Which watch not one another out of feare;
For love all love of other sights controules,
And makes one little roome, an every where.
Let sea discoverrs to new worlds have gone,
Let maps to others, worlds on worlds have showne,
Let us possess one world, each hath one, and is one.

My face in thine eye, thine in mine appeares,
And true plain hearts doe in the faces rest,
Where can we find two better hemishpeares,
Without sharpe North, without declining West?
What ever dies, was not mixt equally;
If our two loves be one, or, thou and I
Love so alike, that none do slacken, none can die.

Naked I saw thee,
O beauty of beauty!
And I blinded my eyes
For fear I should flinch.

I heard thy music,
O sweetness of sweetness!
And I shut my ears
For fear I should fail.

I kissed thy lips
O sweetness of sweetness!
And I hardened my heart
For fear of my ruin.

I blinded my eyes
And my ears I shut,
I hardened my heart
And my love I quenched.

I turned my back
On the dream I had shaped,
And to this road before me
My face I turned.

I set my face
To the road here before me,
To the work that I see,
To the death that I shall meet.

I, the kingly poet Jayadeva,
am going to write Gita Govinda,
the romance of Radha and Krishna,
in the following way.
Like the murals on the house walls,
Saraswati, the deity of speech,
is now coloring my soul with stories.
I’ve become the king of poets
worshipping at goddess-Lakshmi’s feet
and loving my wife, Padamavati
who put rhythms to my lyrics
by dancing on her feet.

O people of grace!
if you hearts are
seeking Krishna’s love
and you desire to know
how women flirt with men,
then listen to Jayadeva’s song
singing praises of Krishna
in most pleasing words.

Oh I have sown my love so wide
That he will find it everywhere;
It will awake him in the night,
It will enfold him in the air.

I set my shadow in his sight
And I have winged it with desire,
That it may be a cloud by day
And in the night a shaft of fire.

I hide myself within my flower,
That wearing on your breast,
You, unsuspecting wear me, too,
And angels know the rest.

I hide myself within my flower,
That, fading from your vase,
You, unsuspecting, feel for me
Almost a loneliness.

Seen my lady home las' night,
          Jump back, honey, jump back.
Hel' huh han' an' sque'z it tight,
          Jump back, honey, jump back.
Hyeahd huh sigh a little sigh,
Seen a light gleam f'om huh eye,
An' a smile go flittin' by --
          Jump back, honey, jump back.

Hyeahd de win' blow thoo de pine,
          Jump back, honey, jump back.
Mockin'-bird was singin' fine,
          Jump back, honey, jump back.
An' my hea't was beatin' so,
When I reached my lady's do',
Dat I could n't ba' to go --
          Jump back, honey, jump back.

Put my ahm aroun' huh wais',
          Jump back, honey, jump back.
Raised huh lips an' took a tase,
          Jump back, honey, jump back.
Love me, honey, love me true?
Love me well ez I love you?
An' she answe'd, " 'Cose I do" --
          Jump back, honey, jump back.

At the end of 11th grade, the Epic Love Story begins, as she is seduced by a crazy punk rocker who sends her love letters written on the peels of oranges. She begins a ridiculous, mostly long-distance relationship with this man, who graduates a year ahead of her and joins the navy. The rest of high school is clouded with her sudden punk rock life style: Multiple concerts, many backstage break-ins, and numerous nights at La Luna. She starts hanging around a certain band, making them origami animals, and attending their sober house parties (the...

Technology…in modern times, the advent of technology has been a significant influence on dating and relationships. We have Cell Phones/text messages, e-mails, webCams, Instant Messengers, Friendster, blogs, online dating services and many more tools to use for the purpose of dating. What works? What doesn’t work? And what kind of impact does it have on the future?

Well really I am asking for help, because it is a subject where I am completely clueless. Because it is the first time I am having a second date without dating the girl, and really only like the second second date I will have had.

Pitiless heat from heaven pours
  By day, but nights are cool;
Continual bathing gently lowers
  The water in the pool;
The evening brings a charming peace:
  For summer-time is here
When love that never knows surcease,
  Is less imperious, dear.

Yet love can never fall asleep;
  For he is waked to-day
By songs that all their sweetness keep
  And lutes that softly play,
By fans with sandal-water wet
  That bring us drowsy rest,
By strings of pearls that gently fret
  Full many a lovely breast.

The sunbeams like the fires are hot
  That on the altar wake;
The enmity is quite forgot
  Of peacock and of snake;
The peacock spares his ancient foe,
  For pluck and hunger fail;
He hides his burning head below
  The shadow of his tail.

Beneath the garland of the rays
  That leave no corner cool,
The water vanishes in haze
  And leaves a muddy pool;
The cobra does not hunt for food
  Nor heed the frog at all
Who finds beneath the serpent's hood
  A sheltering parasol.

Dear maiden of the graceful song,
  To you may summer's power
Bring moonbeams clear and garlands long
  And breath of trumpet-flower,
Bring lakes that countless lilies dot,
  Refreshing water-sprays,
Sweet friends at evening, and a spot
  Cool after burning days.

Everyone imitated Marlowe. His first play, Tamburlaine, was staged when he was 23, and its success can most readily be gauged by its imitators. As David Riggs notes in his new biography, The World of Christopher Marlowe, within the next couple of years three new plays were staged that were more or less direct copies of Marlowe's original, while Shakespeare wrote his early Henry VI plays under the influence of Marlowe's style. A decade later, as the church authorities burned copies of Marlowe's semipornographic love poems in the streets, Shakespeare again returned to imitating his predecessor in As You Like It. Marlowe's contemporaries regarded him with a mixture of awe and fear; as his friend Thomas Nashe wrote, "No leaf he wrote on but was like a burning glass to set on fire all his readers."

Last night, ah, yesternight, betwixt her lips and mine
There fell thy shadow, Cynara! thy breath was shed
Upon my soul between the kisses and the wine;
And I was desolate and sick of an old passion,
   Yea, I was desolate and bowed my head:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.
 
All night upon mine heart I felt her warm heart beat,
Night-long within mine arms in love and sleep she lay;
Surely the kisses of her bought red mouth were sweet;
But I was desolate and sick of an old passion,
   When I awoke and found the dawn was gray:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.
 
I have forgot much, Cynara! gone with the wind,
Flung roses, roses riotously with the throng,
Dancing, to put thy pale, lost lilies out of mind;
But I was desolate and sick of an old passion,
   Yea, all the time, because the dance was long:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.