Come to the orchard in Spring

"Even though all it takes to fill a life is the sun, the land and a poem." --Kikuchi Masaou.

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You’re Beautiful

by Simon Armitage 

You’re Beautiful because you’re classically trained. ,
I’m ugly because I associate piano wire with strangulation. 
You’re beautiful because you stop to read the cards in newsagents’ windows about lost cats and missing dogs.
I’m ugly because of what 1 did to that jellyfish with a lolly-stick and a big stone 
You’re beautiful because for you, politeness is instinctive, not a marketing campaign
I’m ugly because desperation is impossible to hide. 

Ugly like he is,
Beautiful like hers,
Beautiful like Venus,
Ugly like his,
Beautiful like she is,
Ugly like Mars. 

You’re beautiful because you believe in coincidence and the power of thought.
I’m ugly because I proved God to be a mathematical impossibility 
You’re beautiful because you prefer home-made soup to the packet stuff.
I’m ugly because once, at a dinner party, I defended the aristocracy and wasn’t even drunk. 
You’re beautiful because you can’t work the remote control.
I’m ugly because of satellite television and twenty-four hour rolling news. 

Ugly like he is,
Beautiful like hers,
Beautiful like Venus,
Ugly like his,
Beautiful like she is,
Ugly like Mars. 

You’re beautiful because you cry at weddings as well as funerals.
I’m ugly because I think .of children as another species from a different world. 
You’re beautiful because you look great in any colour including red.
I’m ugly because I think shopping is strictly for the acquisition of material goods. 
You’re beautiful because when you were born, undiscovered planets lined up to peep over the rim of your cradle and lay gifts of gravity and light at your miniature feet.
I’m ugly for saying ‘love at first sight’ is another form of mistaken identity and that the most human of all responses is to gloat. 

Ugly like he is,
Beautiful like hers,
Beautiful like Venus,
Ugly like his,
Beautiful like she is,
Ugly like Mars. 

You’re beautiful because you’ve never seen the inside of a car-wash,
I’m ugly because I always ask for a receipt. 
You’re beautiful for sending a box of shoes to the third world.
I’m ugly because I remember the telephone numbers of ex-girlfriends and the year Schubert was born. 
You’re beautiful because you sponsored a parrot in a zoo.
I’m ugly because when I sigh it’s like the slow collapse of a circus tent. 

Ugly like he is,
Beautiful like hers,
Beautiful like Venus,
Ugly like his,
Beautiful like she is,
Ugly like Mars. 

You’re beautiful because you can point at a man in a uniform and laugh.
I’m ugly because I was a police informer in a previous life. 
You’re beautiful because you drink a litre of water and eat three pieces of fruit a day.
I’m ugly for taking the line that a meal without meat is a beautiful woman with one eye. 
You’re beautiful because you don’t see love as a competition and you know how to lose.
I’m ugly because I kissed the FA Cup then held it up to the crowd. 

You’re beautiful because of a single buttercup in the top buttonhole of your cardigan.
I’m ugly because I said the World’s Strongest Woman was a muscleman in a dress.   
You’re beautiful because you couldn’t live in a lighthouse.
I’m ugly for making hand-shadows in front of the giant bulb, so when they look up, the captains of vessels in distress see the ears of a rabbit, or the eye of a fox, or the legs of a galloping black horse. 

Ugly like he is,
Beautiful like hers,
Beautiful like Venus,
Ugly like his,
Beautiful like she is,
Ugly like Mars. 

Ugly like he is,
Beautiful like hers,
Beautiful like Venus,
Ugly like his,
Beautiful like she is,
Ugly like Mars. 

Filed under You're Beautiful beautiful you siman armitage Simon Armitage poem poetry love verse

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If You Forget Me by Pablo Neruda

If You Forget Me by Pablo Neruda

 -

I want you to know

one thing.

 -

You know how this is:

if I look

at the crystal moon, at the red branch

of the slow autumn at my window,

if I touch

near the fire

the impalpable ash

or the wrinkled body of the log,

everything carries me to you,

as if everything that exists,

aromas, light, metals,

were little boats

that sail

toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

 -

Well, now,

if little by little you stop loving me

I shall stop loving you little by little.

 -

If suddenly

you forget me

do not look for me,

for I shall already have forgotten you.

 -

If you think it long and mad,

the wind of banners

that passes through my life,

and you decide

to leave me at the shore

of the heart where I have roots,

remember

that on that day,

at that hour,

I shall lift my arms

and my roots will set off

to seek another land.

 -

But

if each day,

each hour,

you feel that you are destined for me

with implacable sweetness,

if each day a flower

climbs up to your lips to seek me,

ah my love, ah my own,

in me all that fire is repeated,

in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,

my love feeds on your love, beloved,

and as long as you live it will be in your arms

without leaving mine.

(via naivetybutyouth-deactivated2013)

Filed under Pablo Neruda Poem Poetry If You Forget Me If you forget lift roots move on love destiny arms still don't

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A Great Wagon

A Great Wagon

When I see your face, the stones start spinning!

You appear; all studying wanders.

I lose my place.

-

Water turns pearly.

Fire dies down and doesn’t destroy.

-

In your presence I don’t want what I thought

I wanted, those three little hanging lamps.

-

Inside your face the ancient manuscripts

Seem like rusty mirrors.

-

You breathe; new shapes appear,

and the music of a desire as widespread

as Spring begins to move

like a great wagon.

Drive slowly.

-

Some of us walking alongside

are lame!

~

Today, like every other day, we wake up empty

and frightened. Don’t open the door to the study

and begin reading. Take down a musical instrument.

-

Let the beauty we love be what we do.

There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground.

~

Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,

there is a field. I’ll meet you there.

-

When the soul lies down in that grass,

the world is too full to talk about.

Ideas, language, even the phrase each other

doesn’t make any sense.

~

The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.

Don’t go back to sleep.

-

You must ask for what you really want.

Don’t go back to sleep.

-

People are going back and forth across the doorsill

where the two worlds touch.

-

The door is round and open.

Don’t go back to sleep.

-

I would love to kiss you.

The price of kissing is your life.

-

Now my loving is running toward my life shouting,

What a bargain, let’s buy it.

~

Daylight, full of small dancing particles

and the one great turning, our souls

are dancing with you, without feet, they dance.

Can you see them when I whisper in your ear?

~

They try to say what you are, spiritual or sexual?

They wonder about Solomon and all his wives.

-

In the body of the world, they say, there is a soul

and you are that.

But we have ways within each other

that will never be said by anyone.

~

Come to the orchard in Spring.

There is light and wine, and sweethearts

in the pomegranate flowers.

-

If you do not come, these do not matter.

If you do come, these do not matter.

- Jalāl ad-Dīn Muḥammad Rūmī

(via naivetybutyouth-deactivated2013)

Filed under Poetry Poem Rumi Jalāl ad-Dīn Muḥammad Rūmī A Great Wagon These do not matter if you come spring orchard light wine sweethearts pomegranate flowers world soul body within