The Greatest Love in the World is Unconditional

Unconditional

Love sure is the strangest thing
For some, the feeling will be fleeting
For some it endures – ever-lasting.

Some call her Agape sweet
Disinterested, she lies in the souls
That see beyond themselves – so discreet
Are they, soothing the deep-rooted holes
Of those hearts left incomplete.

Some say his name is Eros
Holding passion in a hand and fire
And pleasure and interest and chaos
Consuming, uplifting, giving power
To create and fulfil desire.

Some will find other names yet
Philia covets the mind – friendship
Is her twin. Family? Don’t forget
Storgê who presides over kinship
First among relationships.

But what is this sensation?
I can’t voice the words to describe it
Is it a distant intuition?
I can’t brush the hues that explain it
Will I know my direction?

When I closed my eyes tonight
No darkness – no doubt fell over me.
I had known no peace and no respite
But for all my reason this harmony
Kept playing, unconditionally.

Yes, unconditionally –
Yes, but with sun warmth, with heat too
With splendour, shivers of agony
Is how I love you.

Yes, unreservedly –
Beyond my existence or my pains
Beyond purple sunsets blurred with rains
Is how I’ll love you.

I will keep a safe place for you
To weep, whenever you need to
And a merry place for your heart.

When you’re afraid to fall apart
I’ll help you collect the pieces
Till, at last, the aching ceases.

I will play, laugh and dance with you
When boredom comes to upset you.
I’ll be who you need me to be.

A lover, a friend, a memory
A partner, a joke, a mystery
If it protects all of your dreams
If “you’re happy” is what it means

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I probably talk about love too much, and too often, but love is the strangest thing. We all have a different definition for it, and sometimes, it makes it extremely difficult to understand someone else’s point of view on the question, because deep down, we probably think that love, being universal, should be experienced in the same way by everyone.  I don’t know what love is. But I know what the greatest love in the world is to me – and it is the feeling I hold for this one special person.

I hope you all have a wonderful day,

Love,
Sacha 🌟

Treasure to Vulture

You used to be my treasure

But you betrayed the sanctity
And you destroyed the harmony
You disfigured the poetry
Of you and me.

Go and kiss the lips of youth
Walk and drink the skin of youth
Revel in the lack of truth.
I’ll forget you.

You used to be my treasure
You have become a creature
Empty, fake – mediocre
Nothing but a dead vulture.

Author’s note: When I saw the word treasure in my reader, I thought of all the words that rhymed with it and vulture struck me as a fairly spicy choice! So I tried my best to see how I could go from one word to the other. It was a intriguing exercise. Do other poetry writers do that here?

Love 🌟

Sacha

The Culture of Love?

Why did heartbreak hurt me so?

Lately, I have been thinking a lot about love and relationships. I am not sure I should say “lately,” because in a way, I’ve always thought about these issues a lot, even as a child. Yet, I have never been the kind of person who hops from relationship to relationship or contrives to make people fall for me.

When I was a teen, I always found myself “feeling in love” though, and of course, I never loved people I could actually be with. I have “loved” one of my professors, and the best-looking boy in high school and a few men who were older than me. I remember asking my mother why I could not have a boyfriend or a girlfriend as the other kids at school did. Her answer was quite simple, but I think she was right and only formulated a truth I already knew but did not want to see. She said: “That’s because you’re not in love with anyone. What you love is the idea of love.”

It was easier then to be in love with love than to actually try and be in a real relationship. There would be no rejection and no pain. I could create all these beautiful stories inside my head, and no one could ever take them away from me because I was in control. But then, one day, I really did fall in love, with a girl. And it hurt. I fell in love again, with another girl. And it hurt more. And then again – and on the moment I felt my heart crack open and shatter that time, I thought I would die. This is not just a frozen, cliché image. My heart was pounding; I had shivers down my spine; I could not eat, could not sleep, could hardly breathe…

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At that point, my only thought was “Don’t be fooled dear, there is no such thing as LOVE.” So I started reflecting on the idea of love once again. What was it that had made me so dreadfully hurt? What could possibly have caused such intense suffering? I am happy when I am alone. I don’t feel the need to have a lover or to experience these fluttery feelings you get when you first meet someone. I do not crave it. So what was it? Was it my pride that had been wounded? Was it the idea that our culture imposes on us that if you do not have a fulfilled love life you have accomplished virtually nothing, even if you are successful at work and have good friends because our society seems to tell us we must have it all? EVERY SINGLE LITTLE THING? Or was it so painful because even though I did not need my lover, I actually had made a conscious choice to be with her? I just wanted to be with her and share with her?

The pride issue I think I have resolved. Of course, I am not a perfect angel of selflessness and disinterestedness, so yes, my pride must have been hurt a little bit. I guess that is just natural. What really hurt me though was being told that I was perfect and still losing the one person I loved so dearly. How could I be “perfect” and still not enough? How could perfect be discarded so easily and so quickly? It took me back to my own childhood fears, when my mother told me, even as I got straight As, that I could do better. That when I was naturally kind and loving, I was told that my love was not there or was not real. That my kindness and generosity were a social manipulation. That I was only good because I wanted  people to love me because I did not love myself at all. That all this so-called perfection was either fake or still not enough. I felt worthless and started questioning who I was and whether striving to be the best person you could possibly be (because I don’t think I’m perfect. No one is. And I don’t want to be perfect) was actually worth it.

When the rush of emotion had washed away a little, I came to the conclusion that I should not let my pain harden me into becoming a more selfish and nastier person though. Then, I would actually hate myself as I would not be respecting any of my personal beliefs.

So I wondered about the other questions. Yes, society wants us to have it all; and our culture sells us a image of love that is all passion and thrill without pausing to consider what love is. Love seems to have become just another product we want to consume. Of course, that is not how everyone sees it – I personally don’t and many of my friends do not either – but it tends to be presented in that way very often. Just think about all the love quotes on the internet!

And finally, there was the difference between needing and wanting. No, I did not need my lover to be happy. When I met her, I even knew being with her would probably mean problems and drama and hurt because I could feel she was troubled. And I was right. Still, I chose to stay because I loved her and I wanted to be with her, and I was ready to accept her for who she was, with the good and the bad because relationships are not just about the thrill, they’re about building something. One of my friends told me that you do not find the love of your life, you create it. And I think she’s right, so perhaps the grief of heartbreak was only enhanced by the feeling that the safe place I was trying to build for us together with her was being torn apart. It felt like watching my favorite poem or the painting I liked the most burning away. And it reminded me of all the hurt in the world that we cannot control – all the destruction… So I thought to myself: “the world is already so full of weeping, why would anyone want to add to it? Why generate devastation when you can build beauty?”

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But perhaps I am too much of an idealist and an optimist… And I know that the heart wants what it wants. It can’t be helped, but still, I’d like to hold on to these ideals.

Sorry about this terribly long post… I hope you enjoy it! Thanks to anyone reading  💙

Have a wonderful day,

Love,

Sacha

If I must lose you, or…

If I must lose you, promise me only that you will become a brighter, more accomplished person. That if I cannot spend this life with you, you will use the strength inside yourself to get better, that you will not let the apathy and fears that control your lovely mind take hold of you, but instead, endeavour to find your inner light and hold on to it forever so you can let this spark grow into the flame that I could always see within your soul.

If I must lose you, I can only promise you that I will not let myself wilt away, because you once told me I was your favourite flower and never wanted me to fade. All I can offer is to try and be studious, creative and good. To make my PhD the best work I can, become a better artist and complete the stories and the poems that I have begun to write. That I will not stop drawing, reading, writing or laughing because I am missing you.

I never wanted to lose you though… I never dreamt of this life without seeing you smile, without being the first to witness the look in your eyes as you wake up in the morning, or watching your eyes glitter with joy as you eat pomelos, grapefruit, mushrooms or spaghetti.

My heart brings tears into my eyes as it asks: “Who, then, will you share your reading anecdotes with? Who will read your poetry and who will you write it for, now? Whose happiness will you guard and whose soul will you cherish and blend with yours? Who will call you with a thousand questions and whose hand will you lace to yours? Who will you share the morning cup of coffee with and whose bread will you toast with jam and butter? Whose tears will you dry but your own?  Whose eyes will you simply, kindly look into?”

No one. No one’s. But if it means you can start to heal – I do not mind as much. If it means that in a month, or in a year, you can stand on your own two feet and look at yourself in the mirror thinking “I am happy” then it does not hurt as much, because I love you far beyond my own pains and desires – I love you so very much that all I ever want is for you to be fulfilled, even if it means that you must be forever away from me.

So if I must lose you, please be well, please be healthy, please be your truest, most beautiful and loving self, be the sublime, intricate, colourful sunset I fell in love with.

Love’s Page

Love,
Will you hear your faithful page’s plea?
Will you prove her right despite the odds?
She who waited on you and never cared to flee.

Love,
Never-ending thoughts are troubling her
Fever takes her tortured soul to bed
She who designed for you the word ever.

She made it sing with forever
She made it rhyme with the river
She made it stand for the power
To stay always and forever.

Love,
Will you cool your faithful page’s head?
Will you free her from the sorrow that she bears?
She who lies amongst the tears of dread.

Love,
Dry the streams that wet these blush-less cheeks
Let her hope instead in the twilight hour
She whose loves are flames that never tire.

Careful

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My every word feels like a pin
Stuck in and out of your skin

I know I have to be
Careful
I do not want to be
Hurtful –

But how can I prevent the hurt
If you turn all my love to dirt?

I always have to be
Tactful –
I’m just tired to be
Thoughtful –

When you fumble through my heart
Try and tear it down, and apart

How can I ever show
I am caring?
How can I still be sure
I am feeling?

If you destroy the foundations I laid
And the wreaths that I have made

To lace your life to mine, and to heal
All of the wounds that you conceal.

I really tried to be
Careful –
But it has come to be
Painful –

To resist the waves of your silence
To fight your storms of defiance

I am starting to feel
Hopeless –
But I guess you could not
Care less.