|Chillean Poet Neftalí Ricardo Reyes Basoalto|
a.k.a. Pablo Neruda
I'm probably 50% writer in my whole sense of existence. I like writing poems, I like narrating my stories, I like writing journals, I like writing little notes to everyone. I always say I write because I want to remember the things happening at the moment... To immortalize emotions and make me remember that once I felt "that feeling" too.
One of my favorite poets of all time is Pablo Neruda... For me he just captures the feeling of desire and passion put into good combination of words. I can almost feel the heat of every verse he wrote. I just want to share two of my favorites Neruda Poems...
"I Do Not Love You"
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way
than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
This poem for me is the one of the best love poems I ever felt written... Loving the unknown without pride... So brave and limitless. On a personal note, I think it struck me the most because this is how I genuinely feel about love... And I don't know any other way.
"Full Woman, Fleshly Apple, Hot Moon"
Love Sonnet XII
Full woman, fleshly apple, hot moon,
thick smell of seaweed, crushed mud and light,
what obscure brilliance opens between your columns?
What ancient night does a man touch with his senses?
Loving is a journey with water and with stars,
with smothered air and abrupt storms of flour:
loving is a clash of lightning-bolts and two bodies
defeated by a single drop of honey.
Kiss by kiss I move across your small infinity,
your borders, your rivers, your tiny villages,
and the genital fire transformed into delight
runs through the narrow pathways of the blood
until it plunges down, like a dark carnation,
until it is and is no more than a flash in the night.
Now this is the perfect poem on how to make love with a woman. The passionate sensibility at it's purest form. Perfect metaphor ofnature depicted into love making. Seemingly a perfect union. I like these passionate poems... It let's it's readers share the bliss of intensed emotions.
Thank you Mr. Pablo Neruda, for the genius your shared and immortalized feeling of love. Your poems empathizes with our love.