Tehya Rupe > Tehya's Quotes

“This wave phenomenon is happening on ever so many scales—the fast wave of light, the slower waves of sound—and there are all sorts of other wave processes, such as the beat of the heart; the rhythm of breath, waking, sleeping; the movement of human life from birth to maturity to death. And the slower the wave goes, the more difficult it is to see that the crest and trough are inseparable, and this is how we become persuaded in the game of hide-and-seek. So we see the trough go down, down, down and think it keeps going forever—that it will never rise back up again into a crest. We forget that trough implies crest, and crest implies trough. There is no such thing as pure sound—sound is sound/silence. Light is light/darkness. Light is pulsation—between every light pulse there is the dark pulse.”
― Alan W. Watts, Out of Your Mind: Tricksters, Interdependence, and the Cosmic Game of Hide and Seek

“If at first you don't succeed, try, try again. Then quit. No use being a damn fool about it.”
― W.C. Fields

“When I was a child my mother said to me, 'If you become a soldier, you'll be a general. If you become a monk, you'll be the pope.' Instead I became a painter and wound up as Picasso.”
― Pablo Picasso

“Hand in hand, my love, come away
with me into the blackness—

by the trunk of an old strong oak:

I long to hold you
all through the night
and, knowing not of dawn,
to not talk once—
a pair of hands
nightswept-earth….


Dawning starlight above
splinters the sky to nerves—

now's time for leaving:

poised on the verge
of shorelines burgeoning
everything inside is
raw and tingling….

Over the mountain in utter aloneness
winds are blowing in a cold void….

Just a few promises I’d packed
when I made my way east

like a cloud torn from moorings

always there've been those of us
who sought their origins
on the road
— under an empty moon—
and the origins of origins….

In electrical well-spring vision

nuzzled in the bosom of hills
on the roaming magnetic earth—

far away though they are
the cloud-river
of stars configures
over and over
these visions of you….

Shaking off its dust—
that glittering icy swirl abides….

On the roaming magnetic earth
lying flat, my eyes shocked awake

by the electric liquid light:

chilling winds do not chill me
I know no harm can hold me
even a killing wound will only
seep me back into the stars...

be seeping out from me:

in the float of her womb
and cradled from the cold—
that cradle-of-stars hanging
the milky way….

Over the bay just-beginning—a cusp and
crescent sliver—by the constellations paling fading….

Transient as I am
from before and into after—

like blue vapor, breath travels
in a light from long ago…

here though I knew she'd be
to be here with her
in scorn of all happenstance
is more than a choice:

a joy that's almost loss—
lightning and paralysis….

The blue fire of delight flickers
through sockets of her skull—

so all the world knows not

or pretends not to know:
a person takes a lifetime
to get to know
but the thrill of remembrance
when our eyes met

was just one instant:
it happens all the time….”
― Mark Kaplon, Song of Rainswept Sand

“She is not territory, she is temple (Sonnet)

She is not a territory to conquer,
she is a temple that grants
entry only through trust,
even the gaze must be earned.

I'll never get down on one knee,
if I do, I'll get down on both knees -
absolute surrender, nothing left out.

I don't wanna be a tourist, a passing fling,
I am a pilgrim to your love, to your life,
and at times when you permit, to your body.

By default all women are my sisters,
I may make an exception if I lose my heart,
even then my conscience wouldn't allow filth,
till I've earned her unwavering trust.”
― Abhijit Naskar, Kral Fakir: When Calls The Kainat

“Hurt strengthens the heart,
Breakdown emboldens backbone.
Scars shared are scars cared,
I stand ready to sip your poison.”
― Abhijit Naskar, Yüz Şiirlerin Yüzüğü (Ring of 100 Poems, Bilingual Edition): 100 Turkish Poems with Translations

“Morning's Serenade by Stewart Stafford

Stirred by a magpie's auction bids,
I opened up our curtained eyelids,
To pale dawn's reverential blinking,
Beyond my lady's distant inkling.

Anointed by the infant sun's rays,
I stand in regal morning’s praise;
Surveying virgin domain’s expanse,
Before the hatchling public dance.

The early-risen owl hoots carried far,
The songbirds played off fading stars,
Cockcrow drew in a loping red fox,
Scattering fawns and sheep flocks.

My lady spent, sports a drowsy crown,
Her chest rises, then slowly down,
Cityscape visions to last night's desire,
Golden tresses tossed in oriole fire.

To the kitchen, a connoisseur's start,
A lover's labour, a chef's work of art,
Crack avian treasures, new life's motif.
Ground coffee, perfumed weekend relief.

© Stewart Stafford, 2024. All rights reserved.”
― Stewart Stafford

“Peach Cobbler



You stirred the pot.
Taking parts of you.
Parts of me.
The good, the bad.
Even the things that aren’t
So pretty to look at.
And poured them into
The pan.
It’s easy to forget about
The hurt until you come
Face to face with it.
Sour peaches aren’t the end
Of the world.
No matter how we layer it.
These are the things we’ve
Come to love about each other.
Even the hurt becomes mixed
In a sugar glaze with enough time.
No matter how bitter.
The brown of my skin
Mixed with yours.
A recipe that’s been done
And passed down before our time.
No matter how much of a mess
We think that things are,
No matter how bruised a peach
We accidentally pick up.
Nothing can replace the warmth
Of a cobbler.
Straight from the oven.
Soon we’ll both be fast asleep.
Your head rising and falling on my chest
With each breath I take.”
― Kewayne Wadley

“a look
into
our horoscopes

your smirk
and a
dirty joke

lukewarm tea
and
pack of smokes

chocolate bar
and a
cherry coke”
― Rachel Louise Finn, The Shit You Call Love

“This Elixir Smites by Stewart Stafford

How dull the rose's painted lustre,
As bees gossip, all mistrust her,
Window taps on stormy nights,
Aphids swarm as suckling mites.

Once buds entwined at Nature's hip,
Now cleft in two and water-dipped,
Glass-twisted strangest shape,
Mauve-petalled mausoleum draped.

Neglected drops in muted drought,
The bloody thorns scratch about,
A lush finger in withered point,
Pruned stem of glum conjoint.

Cataclysms from petty faults arise;
Reflection pardoned in imperfect eyes.

© Stewart Stafford, 2024. All rights reserved.”
― Stewart Stafford

“I usually become a ghost to
those who no longer deserve
my time. I've never seen a point
in explaining my absence to
someone who failed to
appreciate my presence. You
don't owe any explanations to
those who hurt you.”
― R.H. Sin

“a bitch is what they call a woman when she no longer has the patience to deal with the bull shit. a bitch is what they call a woman who serves a hot a plate of rejection to any man who isn't worthy of her attention. men who call women bitches for calling them out on their shit are bitches themselves.”
― R.H. Sin

“a body betrayed
a heart destroyed
a mind in confusion
and yet a woman
is capable of taking pain
and transforming it into triumph”
― R.H. Sin

“you've been holding on
to someone who no longer
deserves your grip
you've lost countless hours of sleep
thinking about someone who doesn't
deserve to be on your mind

you've displayed an amazing ability
to care so deeply unconditionally
and you're beautiful because of that

one day you'll be rewarded
with a love that mirrors your own
but first you must move on
without the person who refuses
to love you”
― R.H. Sin, A Beautiful Composition of Broken

“It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me-
Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.”
― Edgar Allen Poe

“It is by no means an irrational fancy that, in a future existence, we shall look upon what we think our present existence, as a dream.”
― Edgar Allan Poe

“Perhaps when we find ourselves wanting everything, it is because we are dangerously close to wanting nothing.”
― sylvia plath

“I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)”
― Sylvia Plath

“Remember, remember, this is now, and now, and now. Live it, feel it, cling to it. I want to become acutely aware of all I’ve taken for granted.”
― Sylvia Plath

“I no longer believed in the idea of soul mates, or love at first sight. But I was beginning to believe that a very few times in your life, if you were lucky, you might meet someone who was exactly right for you. Not because he was perfect, or because you were, but because your combined flaws were arranged in a way that allowed two separate beings to hinge together.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Blue-Eyed Devil

“Believe in yourself. You are braver than you think, more talented than you know, and capable of more than you imagine.”
― Roy T. Bennett, The Light in the Heart: Inspirational Thoughts for Living Your Best Life