4 The ♡ Of Poetry


I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.

Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.

Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day

I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.

I hunger for your sleek laugh,

your hands the color of a savage harvest,

hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,

I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.

I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,

the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,

I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,

and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,

hunting for you, for your hot heart,

like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.


I can be without anyone

but not without you.

You twist my heart, dwell in my mind

and fill my eyes, you are my joy

I can’t be without you.

You are my sleep, my rest, the water I drink.

You are my clarity, my dignity, my world

I can’t be without you.

Sometimes you are kind, sometimes


you break my heart but

my love, my essence, do not go away

I can’t be without you.

You are my head I am the feet

you are the hand, I am your banner

if you leave, I will perish

I can’t be without you.

You have erased my image, taken my sleep

you’ve torn me away from everybody but

I can’t be without you.

I find no joy in life or relief in death.

Why don’t you say it too…

I can’t be without you.

— Rumi

THIS BODY, is a temple

with sacred novels and 

Holy Scriptures etched 

into our bones

You were made for glory, 

the human epitome of a light

a spirit so vast, that it had to 

be contained behind flesh


This body is beautiful


Your body is beautiful


— Arielle Estoria 

(poem excerpt)

Let hell have your footprints

and heaven your heart

inside this realm where pouts & scream go unheard

rivers of blood that runs with the deepest of red

let these burning flames guide our path 

we stroll side by side along the dust and bones of the unrighteous dead

as we walk through hell to pay for deeds unsaid 

this is a hard burden to bear but you and I know why we’re here

redemption lost, only burning memories of misfortune and pain 

as we walk this eternal path, full of fire and flame

on this endless journey, mile after mile 

through the pits of hell.

— bellå

If I showed you my scars, 

would you leave me alone? 

to this dark cruel world, 

would you leave me torn? 

when I’m breaking into pieces, 

will you fix me gently? 

if you ever knew my flaws, 

would you still own me? 

Own these scars,

take my heart, 

feel this pain, 

watch me burn,

pull me closer, 

kiss me hard, 

give me hope,

don’t ever go,

heal me with your kiss.

Frozen hands, breast tearing cells, with burnt, dirty, rotten meat, I hang garlands on branches.  — Alexander 

Let your hair down, 

undress from head to toe,

glance at your reflection in 

the mirror, 

pose for yourself,

outline the curves of your body 

with your eyes,

sing the song that’s been stuck 

in your head all day,

sink into your bed and smile at 

how wonderful it feels,

the sheets pressed against your 

warm body,

breathe, let go of all thoughts of 

dissatisfaction and dismay,

turn off the lights,

placing your head softly on the pillow,

replay what made your heart sing today,

and tell yourself, you didn’t just survive 

this day, you lived it.

‘LOVE AFTER LOVE’  •  Poet – Derek Walcott

The time will come 

when, with elation 

you will greet yourself arriving 

at your own door, in your own mirror 

and each will smile at the other’s welcome, 

and say, sit here. Eat. 

You will love again the stranger who was your self.

Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart 

to itself, to the stranger who has loved you 

all your life, whom you ignored 

for another, who knows you by heart. 

Take down the love letters from the bookshelf, 

the photographs, the desperate notes, 

peel your own image from the mirror. 

Sit. Feast on your life.

— Derek Walcott

‘Love After Love’ | by Derek Walcott | Read by Tom Hiddleston

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.

Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,

some momentary awareness comes

as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!

Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,

who violently sweep your house

empty of its furniture,

still, treat each guest honorably.

He may be clearing you out

for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice.

meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.

Be grateful for whatever comes.

because each has been sent

as a guide from beyond.

— Jellaludin Rumi 


Play me like your violin, musically manipulate my torn heart and make me feel you between my legs, because my heart feels not

strap me down, take out your anger on this body that you lay claim to

get it all out this anger, this everlasting pain forever morphed into my brain 

these parasitic phrases clinging to my flush that you think of so swiftly

take my flesh, lick it up like ice cream raining down your chin, this sticky, sweet and oh so spurious claim to love

because anything you make me feel, think, say, can’t be worse than this reality with, 

without you, being played on your violin.

— bellå 

C O L O R S   of   L O V E

WE come in all colors of the rainbow, 

you and me,

browns, golds, grays and greens, 

with flowing curls and sweeping swirls,

colors of love,

is all I see,

caramel, chocolate, vanilla and cream,

mixed with amber, ivory and ginger, 

in a dream,

endless shades of you and me, 

placed on this earth,

to grow and be,

united as one, 

in all the colors of love. 

— bellå 

HEAVEN’S DOOR  — bellå 

sweetness and voices of serenity fill my 

head as I collapse at Heaven’s door

there are no longer feelings of emptiness 

or regrets of the life once lived

the art of solitude is lost

peace cradles my body with a warm 

loving embrace

arms of the ancients lift me high and 

carry me through to yet another place 

beyond Heaven’s door there’s sounds and 

crowds of laughter filled with endless love

my essence still holds all of the emotions 

I’ve ever had for you

I’ll remember you, I’ll wait for you, beyond

Heaven’s door.

— bellå

You are not a drop in the ocean. 

You are the entire ocean, in a drop.

— Rumi


 Вы не капля в океане.

 Вы весь океан, в капле.

 — Руми

Mix your tear💧with a drop of mine 

It will be easier for you when I leave 

Laugh with me when you hear my thunder⚡️

I’ll leave, it will be easier maybe later on

Now go away yourself, go wherever you want 

Your face still wet with my tears 💦 

You still smile like the first time 

I am the rain, 🌧 I laugh and cry for you.

“Unhappy Modern Man”

The Oldest of all known poems was found during the excavations of Ur city in Mesopotamia. It is written 6000 years ago, and as if yesterday: 

the Unfortunate modern man! He drags himself alone Through the noisy streets of the dirty city, his Head splitting with aching pain. He no longer has true friends, He no longer hears the voice of his God singing to him in silence. 

“Unhappy modern man” was already 6 thousand years ago. By the way, this poem was translated by the American linguist Julian Henry Lowenfeld. He is also one of l) English-speaking scholars in the world (its translation from Russian into English “Eugene Onegin” recognize Lowenfeld Recently received Russian citizenship.

From Syrian Poet 🇸🇾 | ~Bassam Frangieh

Exiled In France, Adonis

Trans. From Arabic

Tomorrow when my country sings with love flowing from me, I erase the blackness with my face and become a nation for every nation so no darkness remains in our land and no evil remains. Thus, say, I am free and say, you are free.


hand in hand

my hand locked in yours, 

for that moment,

I’m alive,

fingers traced,

touch embraced, 

hand grips my waist,

remind me I’m here,

locked in your embrace, 

head on your shoulder,

never a second older,

hand gliding through my hair,

reach for me,

pull me closer,

touch me in a million places,

awake all those empty spaces,

those quite spots,

I know your smell,

he lingers,

squeeze tight, 

lock in,

keep me safe,

my hand still in yours, 

empty streets,

on repeat,

no rules, 

just feels right,

at least on this night,

hand in hand. 


Where the lips are silent the heart has a thousand tongues.

— Rumi

The birdie flew from the eucalyptus branch

spreading its wings flew towards the whirlwind and the wave spun it into a spiral and carried to meet the new adventures to the ocean itself, and the ocean accepted it with open embraces its breeze caressed it with a soft wet and warm wind.  ~alexander

Girl, angel, child 

Why are you lying about love? 

And paw, with a coin ringing 

Letting the poison, thickening the blood 

Souls you threads methodically 

Still turn into a string 

Manipulating perfectly 

You’re sinking with me. 

Believe me, honey. 

Hurt you I won’t let 

And we’ll get to the edge 

And fly a beam of five grams 

And on the bones of the departed 

We will build our temple of love 

Seeker, never found 

Please wait a bit 

Let him be the Taj Mahal 

Where will we find our peace 

Do not believe the cowardly and impudent 

And you and your house will find



to a secret place

a sweet escape

a heavenly place where angels sing and

music rings

to a place where being torn from the storm

still leaves me at ease

a place where promises made

are promises kept

not just something said

to a place where the lines between right and

wrong are objectively blurred

a place where we can disconnect

from this cold, cold, reality

take me away.



despite what you say, what you do, trying to convince me you don’t care, I see through you. I see the way your words linger to get me closer, pessimistic thoughts on display to dismay, I see through you. Methods used to cope, dull reality, ease pain residing within, I see through you. We’re tied to each other, time nor space has no place which can sustain us, I see through you. Our troubled souls stay attached, match point match, I see through you.


you’re in every cell entire space you occupy my mind my dream, my cunning hold hands with you sister, lover, Panther you tear my flesh from my heart I live with hope and faith but I can not overcome the carnal desires of the beast I’m getting current. live and heart of in the glow of gray you rock my life fate winding threads weave us into one let’s go with you all the mazes and we will braid all the earth like the thread of Ariadne beauty you’ll bring us all out. you all honors reward without you, I’m not here.


ты в каждой клетке все пространство весь занимаешь разум мой моя мечта, мое коварство держаться за руку с тобой сестра, любовница, пантера терзаешь сердце мою плоть надеждой я живу и верой но не могу перебороть желанья плотские у зверя меня пронизывает ток живу и сердце жаром грею что ты пожизненный мой рок судьбы извилистые нити сплетают нас с тобой в одну пройдем с тобой все лабиринты и оплетем мы землю всю как нить красотки Ариадны ты выведешь нас всех на свет тебе все почести награды ведь без тебя, меня здесь нет

The body is imaginary,

and we bow to the tyranny of the phantom.  Not only do we traverse a realm of shadows; we ourselves are shadows.

Тело воображаемо,

и мы склоняемся перед тиранией призрака.  Мы не только пересекаем царство теней, но и сами являемся тенями.

“Phenomenal Woman” /•/ MAYA ANGELOU

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies. I’m not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size. But when I start to tell them, They think I’m telling lies.

I say, It’s in the reach of my arms, The span of my hips, The stride of my step, The curl of my lips. I’m a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That’s me.

I walk into a room Just as cool as you please, And to a man, The fellows stand or Fall down on their knees. Then they swarm around me, A hive of honey bees.

I say, It’s the fire in my eyes, And the flash of my teeth, The swing in my waist, And the joy in my feet. I’m a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That’s me.

Men themselves have wondered What they see in me. They try so much But they can’t touch My inner mystery. When I try to show them, They say they still can’t see. I say, It’s in the arch of my back, The sun of my smile, The ride of my breasts, The grace of my style. I’m a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That’s me.

Now you understand Just why my head’s not bowed. I don’t shout or jump about Or have to talk real loud. When you see me passing, It ought to make you proud. I say, It’s in the click of my heels, The bend of my hair, the palm of my hand, The need for my care. ’Cause I’m a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That’s me.

𝐘𝐎ᑌ ᗰᗩ𝐘 ᕼᗩᐯ𝐄 𝐓ᕼ𝐄 ᑌᑎ𝐈ᐯ𝐄ᖇᔕ𝐄 𝐈ᖴ 𝐈 ᗰᗩ𝐘 ᕼᗩᐯ𝐄 𝐈𝐓ᗩᒪ𝐘 ~вєllå 🇮🇹

I was formed by the

sea & the sky

🇺🇸 Stars are buried in my fingertips, the
sun is reflected in my hair. My eyes are black holes which will devour you. I am enchanting and blinding. The waves and the wind form in my mind, I’m a constant storm brewing. ~bellå

🇷🇺 Я был создан морем и небом.
Звезды погребены в кончиках моих пальцев.
солнце отражается в моих волосах. Мои глаза-черные дыры, которые поглотят тебя. Я очаровательна и ослепительна. Волны и ветер формируются в моем сознании, я-постоянно надвигающийся шторм.


“You’ll always be late for the previous train, and always on time for the next.” ~Piet Hein

Take Me Away

Take me away from my sense. I need to go away now, because I’m in chaos – take me down deep. Hover over me, because I need grace.

~Caroline Myss

I’ll Wait 4 U

𝐈’ᒪᒪ  ᗯᗩ𝐈𝐓  ᖴ𝐎ᖇ  𝐘𝐎ᑌ  𝐈ᑎ  ᗩ  ᑭᒪᗩᑕ𝐄  

ᗯᕼ𝐄ᖇ𝐄  𝐓ᕼ𝐄  ᔕ𝐄ᗩ  ᗰ𝐄𝐄𝐓ᔕ  𝐓ᕼ𝐄  ᔕ𝐊𝐘. 

ᗯᕼ𝐄ᖇ𝐄  𝐓ᕼ𝐄  𝐎ᑕ𝐄ᗩᑎ  ᗯᗩᐯ𝐄ᔕ  ᑕᖇᗩᔕᕼ  

ᗩ𝐆ᗩ𝐈ᑎᔕ𝐓  ᗩ  ᔕ𝐄ᗩ  𝐎ᖴ  ᖇ𝐎ᑕ𝐊ᔕ  ᒪ𝐈ᑎ𝐄ᗪ  

ᗷ𝐘  𝐓ᕼ𝐄  ᔕᕼ𝐎ᖇ𝐄. 

ᗯᕼ𝐄ᖇ𝐄  𝐓ᕼ𝐄  ᖴᗩᗰ𝐈ᒪ𝐈ᗩᖇ  𝐄ᑎᗪᔕ  
ᗩᑎᗪ  𝐓ᕼ𝐄  ᑌᑎ𝐊ᑎ𝐎ᗯᑎ  ᗷ𝐄𝐆𝐈ᑎᔕ. 

𝐈’ᒪᒪ  ᗯᗩ𝐈𝐓  ᖴ𝐎ᖇ  𝐘𝐎ᑌ. ~bellå

📸 I’ll Wait 4 U • Photo Credit • Joshua

“If London is a riddle, Paris is an explanation.” ~G. K. Chesterson

“Poor is the man whose pleasures depend on the permission of another.” ~Madonna

…𝒂𝒏𝒅  𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏  𝑰’𝒎  𝒅𝒐𝒏𝒆  𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉  𝒎𝒚  𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆, 𝑰’𝒍𝒍  𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆  𝒕𝒐  𝒚𝒐𝒖. ~𝓐𝓵𝓮𝔁𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻


🦋 🦋 🦋

The people of this world are like the three butterflies in front of a candle’s flame.

The first one went closer and said: I know about love.

The second one touched the flame lightly with his wings and said: I know how love’s fire can burn.

The third one threw himself into the heart of the flame and was consumed. He alone knows what true love is.

—Farid al-Din Attar

Raise your words,

not voice.

It is rain that grows

flowers, not thunder.


Поднимите ваши слова,

не голос.

Это дождь, который растет

цветы, а не гром.