I began with the intention to talk about Cupid, Eros, broken hearts, and Courtly Love, but changed my mind–as today is meant for romantic and spiritual musing of the Heart. Subsequently, I offer poetry so to celebrate all aspects of the great cosmic force of Love, Eros.
First a poem of Godly Love and Devotion:
Don Juan-Miguel la Flor de las Mujeres June 9, 2012 [still me]
THE SAVIOR’S LANCE
Oh, dear and glorious God,
Thou, ever-burning source of heavenly Wisdom,
Thou, ever-present source of tender hearts warmth,
Thou, faithful and charitable Father.
Without Your bright beams of faith and wisdom,
shining and dispelling the shadowy darkness
of self-love, of power, of control, of hate,
we fall prey, again and again, caught fast,
unwholesome snares laid by the Deceiver.
Without the Warmth of Your radiant Love,
our lives would be cold and calculating
replicates of the Deceiver and his Demons.
No tender sharing in love’s embrace,
no words of kindness or helping hand
for the simple and meek ones, young and old,
no tender tear for the happiness of others,
nor for the grieving tear of life’s losses.
Only, the cold and dark expanse of arctic iciness.
I heard Your soft Voice, long ago,
and I felt such a great sadness in You,
that I swore Holy and Eternal Allegiance,
either Goodness or Evilness will hold
Mankind in the end, this Battle is for them.
So I donned golden chain mail and white boar tunic,
pure white, bearing gold cross and a red rose, front and back.
I took up the sharp and flaming Sword of Justice,
sheathing it, for the moment, in the Scabbard of Fairness.
On my war-steed, rested Your Shield of Mercy and Compassion,
I placed my boot into its stirrup,
mounting my enchanted equine partner,
my head now far above the billowing clouds,
seeing to the ends of Madame Earth.
I saw the Deceiver’s Demons everywhere,
spreading damning Lies, concupiscence everywhere,
encouraging wickedness, perversion, greed and hate,
even within the hearts of the children.
My Angel Squire reached high, offering my helmet,
Sun’s Rays reflecting back gold into his eyes,
I placed it upon my head, its horsehair plume,
Phoenician purple, full of God’s Grace.
Reaching down, I lifted the Savior’s Lance,
its bronze tip wet with Our Lord’s Blood.
My Heavenly Horse was restless,
its snorts spewing out Divine Fire,
I felt its heart beating with a warrior’s will for battle.
Today, once again, to the endless Battlefield, I go,
to die, to perish, to be slain by arrows of cold hate,
lanced through by spears of pure discord,
burned, skin scorched by Dragon’s Fire,
I fight for God’s sake, for the souls of mankind.
I have been imprisoned, one eternity after another,
in Hell’s deepest and most dismal stone dungeons,
I have been tortured in body, mind and spirit,
tempted by the charms of Hell’s most luscious Harlots,
offered great Demon Armies to fight for Him,
eternal wealth, power, pleasure are mine, if I love Him.
But, my reserve cannot be broken or my steadfastness diverted,
for I am Your servant and Your general, now and forever.
The Great Battle cycles from one age to another,
no universe is immune, no species spared.
Evil is the dark twin of his sister, Goodness.
and the Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve,
must choose which twin to exalt and love.
Mankind’s Right is to choose eternal Heaven or Hell,
The End Times are now and always.
Second, a poem of the love that wants to heal:
Feb 7, 2011
Never has been a moment,
when society, fed not, a woman’s torment.
A single mother’s tired despair,
both mother and father, how unfair.
Survival’s whip lashes strike not her back alone,
but her innocent children are split to the bone.
No husband’s arms to console her,
no sweet words, none to call her, my dear.
No strong hands to massage aching shoulders,
stooped more each day, survival’s heavy boulders.
God never willed for us a life so cold,
only Satan’s vanity and deceit in man took hold.
Each night brings not passion’s warm caresses,
only frigid sheets and eyes wet with tears.
No ancient heroes or immortal gods,
see the pain or hear her deep sobs.
Each night, in my dreams, I see the faces,
eyes so sad, silent tears wetting a billion pillow cases.
And so many little children knowing no fathers,
no men of honor to provide loving shelters.
I do what I can, when and where I can,
but I am only one fallen angel?
No longer can I ignore this unnecessary sadness,
young widows, orphans and children without fathers
No rehabilitation camps for the tormentors,
only timely annihilation, ridding earth of its dementors.
Third, a poem of imagined love:
26 October 2009
A LOVER’S WARMTH IS
So, my curious rose of love’s longing hopes,
thou muse, doth thou, upon my hows of warming thee?
Thy room bears the chill of winter winds,
steam radiators no more than arrows against guns,
hand-knit sweaters and woolen shawls,
not quite good enough,
worn pajamas and feather comforters space limiting?
Shall I incarnate as the life-animating sun,
my heart ablaze with flames of passion’s sparks?
Shall I weave of my essence true and erotic,
a luxurious mantle of rainbow, woolen silkiness,
layering it over thy wanton nakedness,
so the cold night’s humors are held at bay?
Shall I show myself as Krishna to Arjuna,
in the fullness of Holy Love and Eternal Wisdom,
rays of burning brightness fondling thy erogeny,
my Ankhen hands lighting fires where e’er I touch?
Or perhaps, even simpler, only thy lover’s lusty embrace,
locked timelessly together in passionate deep kisses,
moving to complement hot lance penetrations?
Dear love, such are only some of my hows.
Fourth, a poem of lasting love:
17 May 2013
FOR MARIA, MY ANGEL AND MOST BELOVED
Maria, will you love me always?
Will you love me when others don’t,
when all the world is aflame with hate,
when all and everything seems against me?
Will your heart hold true,
when the winds of Satan blow strong,
when all the world is covered in ice?
Will your soul continue to proclaim,
that your Juan-Miguel is true and still pure,
even amidst the hate mongers lies?
Will you still love your darling,
even after the world steals all that I own,
when only hope and my love for you remains?
Will you love me when I am old,
amongst others more young and desirable,
remembering how I was so long ago?
Will you still dream of our times of lust,
after your youth has moved onward,
when I just hold your hand?
Will you still love me longingly,
when my soul rests for you in heaven,
God having separated us temporarily?
Will you find me once again,
when our lives start anew.
will your heart remember your Juan-Miguel?
Oh, Maria, will you love me always?
As I cherish and love my angel,
my other half, so dear.
Happy Valentine’s Day, one and all. Remember, first grade, and the simple joy we all gave and received from those Valentine cards we made for each in the class. Children do know better!