Category Archives: LOVE

“A feeling that was unfamiliar, but very delicious came over her.”

0 0 0 0 0 womansguidetosex00pitc_0217

“A feeling of exultation overtook her, as if some power of significant import had been given her to control the working of her body and her soul. She grew daring and reckless, overestimating her strength. She wanted to swim far out, where no woman had swum before.”


Kate Chopin.

“Since Iris is the Greek goddess for the Messenger of Love, her sacred flower is considered the symbol of communication and messages. Greek men would often plant an iris on the graves of their beloved women as a tribute to the goddess Iris, whose duty it was to take the souls of women to the Elysian fields.” – Hana No Monogatari: The Stories of Flowers

0 0 0 0 0 katagamijapanese00coop_0027

White Iris

By Michelle


Cold are its roots

lizard-skinned backs

swimming beneath viridian coats

cracks in the pavement hinting at navigations.


Limbs given away

leaving stumpy questions knots telling stories

torso steadfast and ancient.


Fingers adorn arms

searching the sky

tipped in thin tongues

lapping attentively

at unforseen succulents

gathered nearby.


Cold is this mourning

light laden in its shadows,

digits splintered

in the building June breeze

stinging sharply

within my shoes

as I sit here

on the timbered picnic table


And I can’t get away from the cold…

“She cast her fragrance and her radiance over me. I ought never to have run away from her… I ought to have guessed all the affection that lay behind her poor little stratagems. Flowers are so inconsistent! But I was too young to know how to love her.” ― Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince

0 0 0 paulgauguin00moriuoft_0177

Flowers open without choosing the rich man’s ground, the moon shines bright on mountains and rivers; only within the heart of men is evil; all other things must resolve themselves into heaven’s parental care of the human race. (Chinese).

Love can neither be bought nor sold, its only price is love.

0 0 0 0 0 womansguidetosex00pitc_0217

“A kind of light spread out from her. And everything changed color. And the world opened out. And a day was good to awaken to. And there were no limits to anything. And the people of the world were good and handsome. And I was not afraid any more.”
― John Steinbeck, East of Eden

Ye’re like a rotten nut, no worth cracking for the kernel.

0 0 0 pictorialcomposi00hammrich_0213

Amaru :

When the bond of love broke, the respect born of affection withered, good feelings fled, and that man walked before me like any other, Good Friend, I imagine all this, think on days gone by and wonder why my heart hasn’t cracked into a hundred bits.

[Amaru (c. seventh century A.D.), Kashmirian king, compiler, author of some of the poems in the anthology which bears his name. translated from the Amaruataka by Martha Ann Selby, vs. 43, Motilal Banarsidass (1983).]

Every road leads to Home.



Love in a Cottage

A cottage small be mine, with porch
Enwreathed with ivy green,
And brightsome flowers with dew-filled bells,
’Mid brown old wattles seen.

And one to wait at shut of eve,
With eyes as fountain clear.
And braided hair, and simple dress,
My homeward step to hear.

On summer eves to sing old songs,
And talk o’er early vows.
While stars look down like angels’ eyes
Amid the leafy boughs.

When Spring flowers peep from flossy cells.
And bright-winged parrots call,
In forest paths be ours to rove
Till purple evenings fall.

The curtains closed, by taper clear
To read some page divine,
On winter nights, the hearth beside,
Her soft, warm hand in mine.

And so to guide through busy life,
Like some small brook alone,
That winds its way ’mid grassy knolls,
Its music all its own.

Daniel Deniehy (first published 1847)]

Two lovers in the rain have no need of an umbrella. Japanese



how many umbrellas or love letters

by Richard James Allen


how many umbrellas have I lost in my lifetime – left in the pristine

foyers of yoga centres, in the muddy corners of coffee shops, in the

mysterious worlds that exist under the seats in bus shelters, dangling

like bats off park benches?


                                                     I imagine each of these umbrellas, all dead and forgotten now of course, as giant origami love letters, which people I don’t know opened to the plunging sky with delight and relief.


looking back, these random forgetfulnesses may have been the major contribution of my life, popping up in the lives of others like the tips of islands emerging in a world where the sea levels are actually dropping to save beautiful but bedraggled shipwrecked wayfarers in a lost play by a man still named Bill.


And then


the rainless dawn.

Commended in the 2013 Dangerously Poetic Byron Bay Writers Festival Poetry Prize.

In a time of deceit telling the truth is a revolutionary act. George Orwell

0 0 flowerchildrenli00gord_0089

“The Chrysanthemum, the Flower of Happiness, was so revered that in Japan only the nobles could grow it.  It has been grown for over 2,000 years all throughout in the Far East.  It has come to mean love and truthfulness.  We may see it carved on the throne of the Emperor of Japan and on many Chinese artifacts.”
–   Flowers: Myths, Legends and Traditions