Category Archives: Poetic Thursday

My semi-regular linguistical love affair with poetry and the bards who write them.

On Courtesans, Skin Hunger and Sexual Healing

Nowadays, to call oneself a courtesan seems almost blasphemous to the herstorical truth of what that once meant, considering the delight to which Hafiz hints. In this Persian sages words, though pleasure certainly appears had by shy men and women … Continue reading

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What Does Light Talk About? | Rus Anson Photography

To those with the heart of a poet, our world can sometimes feel increasingly oppressive until we are reminded of simple miracles. When Catholism’s greatest theologian and poet, the Italian-born Thomas Aquinas wrote, he did so prolifically and with the … Continue reading

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The Earth My Own Body I Explored

“One night as I walked in the desert the mountains rode on my shoulders And the sky became my heart, and the earth – my own body, I explored. Every object began to wink at me, and Mira wisely calculated … Continue reading

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My Youngest Was Six When I Died

Love and the ability to trust are imprinting early on in our upbringing, as is our predilections for certain experiences, reinventing the same pattern, over and over again, to subconsciously draw new blood and finally know real healing. How many … Continue reading

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The Naked and The Nude | Graves | Classic French Sensuality | Bouguereau

A private discussion between a reader and me on the nature of nudity vs. nakedness confirmed just how provocative certain concepts are. We are talking bare skin, my beloveds, the image of which renders lovers mute – oh, all right, … Continue reading

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Men | Wealthy or Rich?

Who really is rich, and how do you define it? Contemplating happiness, money and riches these days, I find substance in two unlikely sources: a Jewish proverb (“He who is satisfied with his lot”) and this poem by Lois Wyse … Continue reading

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Mystical Whimsical Eroticism From Ancient India?

“What if your human lover is just about ready to insert a pulsating mass into your forest and rain there,” wrote Mirabai (c. 1498-1550), a female mystic and poet from India, and I can’t help but think that the divine … Continue reading

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Poetry of Sexual Love and Desire | Roberto Rubalcava Photography | Wadsworth

Taking off my clothes piece by piece, I turn to you, unwrap my body, feel you trace its contours with your fingers.

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Love | When She Says It is Nothing

I suppose it was something you said That caused me to tighten And pull away. And when you asked, “What is it? I, of course, said, “Nothing.” Whenever I say, “Nothing.” You can be very certain there is something. That … Continue reading

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