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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required “But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet;Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.” –“He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven,” by W.B. Yeats “I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.” –“Sonnett XVII,” by Pablo Neruda “He stepped down, trying not to look long at her, as if she were the sun, yet he saw her, like the sun, even without looking.” –Anna Karenina, by Leo Tolstoy “He knew that when he kissed this girl, and forever wed his unutterable visions to her perishable breath, his mind would never romp again like the mind of God. So he waited, listening for a moment longer to the tuning fork that had been struck upon a star. Then he kissed her. At his lips’ touch she blossomed like a flower and the incarnation was complete.” –The Great Gatsby, by F. Scott Fitzgerald The Dilettante Diaries: "The Divine Feminine (A Tale of Seduction)" Violet’s so complicated her Blue Blues and Jade Greens like cordon bleu over-rated but the Light emanating from her eyes shines like a magnet over him he’s drawn to her like moth to flame to picture love whatever it is and to fancy by safe distance he writes his dreams flying flights of haggard bedazzled black crows off a page to placate the She, Muse Mysterious, it’s all untouchable lilting semantics he’s no big cat he won’t stray then a sense of time days running away fast, ticking time closing in at the turnstiles life’s racing away and there he goes and gets all Cross-eyed Romantic The 50 Move Rule is irretrievably thrown he’s now check mating away Freshwater's a Kiss Away He’s walking a thin line between hubris and the solitary confinement of hard-rising addled adolescent thoughts, he is curfewed, tied and bound in this new foreign soiled madness of mind blindfolded without touch, yet he always arrests himself in time - but then, much later, The Burnished flame Checks his Revelator Buries his pride deep For once doesn’t hide for the day moves in closer he’s crossed the line he’s just a breath away Words by two he’s in deep two minds enter the Race Course the cost of winning is not cheap they’re at play words are written minds and thoughts transferred cerebral parlay Laughs a smile Pulls him in closer each day Silently Romancing the dancing Silent Knight into play, the one who comes forward then bolts, backs away She's painting a story with colours unheard of divine our fearless Dark Feline Dances in time with her Red Rose Heart Opening in the turnstiles places bets on her token Life's Rhyme Open Book pages unlined waiting for colour feelings imprint this story has a spine She Muse Writes her story her way It’s enough to make a lost soul want to pray Ropes cast off Freedom She’s Sunlight Divine Heat pulls him in ragged pulls him in messed up not neat (it's a given) all the sweet soul surfing way The journey begins Dark Feline Divine Dance Words Romancing LOVE is to be nurtured hot-blooded is certain to win Autumn-to-Winter’s last chance Who shall say such is the wanting heart never to be cast out as black sin cast crumpled away that is the chance of the risk that LOVE is Last Chance for two Lovers minds dance Love’s Parlay Anchors Aweigh! Slow Steaming 24 knots Out of Safe Harbour into the Burning Frabjous Bay ... Laughs a smile Pulls him in closer and giggles, like a girl, "Oh frabjous day!" (Lovejoy-Burton/September 2018) A story of pure fantasy. One can dream and dream one must to turn Romance into something out of the ether into something solid something to touch Skin that shimmers like Light from the Dark “And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.” Anais Nin “I must be a mermaid, Rango. I have no fear of depths and a great fear of shallow living.” Anais Nin “Throw your dreams into space like a kite, and you do not know what it will bring back, a new life, a new friend, a new love, a new country.” Anais Nin “The role of a writer is not to say what we can all say, but what we are unable to say.” Anais Nin “You live like this, sheltered, in a delicate world, and you believe you are living. Then you read a book… or you take a trip… and you discover that you are not living, that you are hibernating. The symptoms of hibernating are easily detectable: first, restlessness. The second symptom (when hibernating becomes dangerous and might degenerate into death): absence of pleasure. That is all. It appears like an innocuous illness. Monotony, boredom, death. Millions live like this (or die like this) without knowing it. They work in offices. They drive a car. They picnic with their families. They raise children. And then some shock treatment takes place, a person, a book, a song, and it awakens them and saves them from death. Some never awaken.” Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 1: 1931-1934 “If you do not breathe through writing, if you do not cry out in writing, or sing in writing, then don't write, because our culture has no use for it.” Anais Nin “You don't find love, it finds you. It's got a little bit to do with destiny, fate, and what's written in the stars.” Anaïs Nin
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