La Langue D'amour

What happens when you become a summer time insomniac? I write poetry, but to step it up a notch I'm going to start writing poems in French. Help expand my creativity with my favorite language.

Je Rêve de Toi

J’ai besoin de toi.

Vous parlez à mon cœur.

J’aime comment vous vous sentirez.

Vous me rapprochez.

Dis-moi tout.

Ne rien dire.

Vous vous couchez avec moi milieu des étoiles.

Je souhaite cela allait durer éternellement,

Mais ces doux moments ne durent jamais.

Bise-moi avant vous quittez,

Avant je me réveille.

TRANSLATION:

I Dream of You

I need you.

You speak to my heart.

I love how you feel.

Come closer to me.

Tell me everything.

Say nothing.

You lie with me among the stars.

I wish that this would last forever,

But such sweet moments never last.

Kiss me before you leave,

Before I wake.

Commentary on A Dream Deferred: A Truly Random Thought.

I don't know why this crossed my mind but...

What actually happens to a dream deferred? Langston Hughes once asked this question; he asked a few questions really.

A Dream Deferred by Langston Hughes

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

 What happens when someone is told they can't? When they try as hard as they know how, and fail? When it seems that every door is closed and they can find no way out? What happens when their dream is deferred? Humans are born innately resilient; we are instinctively designed to survive. If attacked we defend ourselves, if in trouble we help ourselves, if hurt we console ourselves. As a race and I mean human, the definition of “race” today is a baseless biological distinction, but I digress, we have gotten over and through SO much. Thousands of years of slavery, genocides, famines, earthquakes, hurricanes, death, despair, depression, there is literally no end to what we have endured and continue to endure. So why would we watch our dreams, our goals, our wants and needs go unfulfilled without trying to figure out a way to achieve them? Look at the word that Langston Hughes used: deferred.  To defer means to put off to a later time; to postpone. He didn’t ask what happens to a dream eliminated, or a dream eradicated. He knew that even if we could not achieve our dream then, at some point it would be realized. Hughes makes it seem as if the dream dies; as if it slips away passively and noiselessly, drifting into obscurity as the person who created it moves on. But I beg to differ. When a dream must be put aside, it doesn’t go quietly; it boils beneath the surface waiting for its chance. It sits at the back of your mind, making sure it is not forgotten. It whispers to you in your sleep, wrapping around your thoughts and making its presence felt. I think it is an ember in your soul, seemingly gone, but not quite out, biding time until it can become a righteous flame again.

A Dream Deferred

By Taylor-Rae Collins-Headley

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it burn

Behind the eyes like the sun?

And fight

Until the battle is won?

Does it churn

 Beneath the surface with passion and heat?

For it knows

Neither surrender nor defeat?

Maybe it rises

Like a phoenix in flight.

Waiting to ignite.

Enter where few have been allowed...

Sounds scary but really I just want you to check out my poetry blog, http://randrofmymind.blogspot.com/ , everytime I get inspired to write a poem I'll put it on there and you can let me know what you think (Yes I'm shamelessly plugging myself)!

Poems!

I fancy myself a poet so these are the first of a few poems I wanted to share! let me know what you think!

Untitled Because Sex Was Too Straightforward

Hearts beating, rhythmically living

Calling and needing, hurting and feeling

Skin blushing, searching and touching

Lustfully greeting, wanting and needing

Bodies meeting, surging and seething

Loving and fighting, passion igniting

Souls mixing, breaking and fixing

Binding and freeing, floating and being

Hearts leaving, moments fleeting

 Bodies needing, energy depleting

Based on Out in the Fields with God: a Choir Song

The cares of life are washing away as the sun

Warms my face. My hands run lightly over the

Grass. I fall into a stream and the water is cool

Against my body. I’m floating peacefully and the

 Breeze makes my skin tingle. The world passes

Beneath me but I barely notice

I’m walking and listening to life. The ground is

Soft under my feet. The birds and the bees circle

My face and tangle in my hair. Laughter rings

Everywhere but it comes from my soul. The flowers

Tremble in my wake. My dreams flow from my mind

And become sweet realities.

He’s here. I can’t see him, but it doesn’t matter.

I feel him. I’m tired, so tired, He’s carrying me

As I rest. Comfort washes over me and joy fills

My spirit. I’m by myself but I don’t feel alone.

He’s surrounding me, molding me, becoming me.

I’m one with the creator.