“As seasons change, so do we…

As the Earth evolves, so do we…

As we realize the Universe, so do we…”

- CSV 10/5/11 2:20pm (ET)

First and foremost, I want to thank each and everyone who has come to visit my page! I hope that you are enlightened and in some way inspired with the messages, I present in my writings. I also would like to mention to everyone that, being that it is my first time on any site presenting my work, I welcome any and every kind of criticism. As a well- known saying, “Knowledge is Power,” (Sir Francis Bacon, 1597) I humbly suggest to all of my viewers that it is a tool for me, personally, spiritually, and emotionally to continue this open opportunity as it will serve me in the best of our interests of life.

As you get to know a little bit more about myself, I am, as you can assume, an open-minded individual that who particularly expresses herself through poetry. It is an art that I find has come to best express and show what goes on in this complex world of mine, one which I call my “Cerebral Sanctuary”. As most poets, I too illustrate my personal feelings into each piece that I make. You also will expect to see a more abstract style in my writings, also, a value of depth that it carries within. What I leave up to you to decide is whether or not, my presentation can be fiction or nonfiction, and what reality it makes on your existence.

Given that we are here to share with one another are experiences, I highly encourage everyone to feel free to share your work with me, as I have been given the privilege to share with you. Thank you all, and enjoy!!!

- CSV

A Inspiração:

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

[When our two souls stand up]

When our two souls stand up erect and strong,
Face to face, silent, drawing nigh and nigher,
Until the lengthening wings break into fire
At either curvèd point,--what bitter wrong
Can the earth do to us, that we should not long
Be here contented? Think. In mounting higher,
The angels would press on us and aspire
To drop some golden orb of perfect song
Into our deep, dear silence. Let us stay
Rather on earth, Belovèd,--where the unfit
Contrarious moods of men recoil away
And isolate pure spirits, and permit
A place to stand and love in for a day,
With darkness and the death-hour rounding it.

D.H. Lawrence

I Am Like a Rose

I am myself at last; now I achieve
My very self, I, with the wonder mellow,
Full of fine warmth, I issue forth in clear
And single me, perfected from my fellow.

Here I am all myself. No rose-bush heaving
Its limpid sap to culmination has brought
Itself more sheer and naked out of the green
In stark-clear roses, than I to myself am brought.

Emily Dickinson

[I dwell in Possibility--]

I dwell in Possibility--
A fairer House than Prose--
More numerous of Windows--
Superior--for Doors--

Of Chambers as the Cedars--
Impregnable of Eye--
And for an Everlasting Roof
The Gambrels of the Sky--

Of Visitors--the fairest--
For Occupation--This--
The spreading wide my narrow Hands
To gather Paradise--

Sharon Olds

Sex without Love

How do they do it, the ones who make love
without love? Beautiful as dancers,
gliding over each other like ice-skaters
over the ice, fingers hooked
inside each other's bodies, faces
red as steak, wine, wet as the
children at birth whose mothers are going to
give them away. How do they come to the
come to the come to the God come to the
still waters, and not love
the one who came there with them, light
rising slowly as steam off their joined
skin? These are the true religious,
the purists, the pros, the ones who will not
accept a false Messiah, love the
priest instead of the God. They do not
mistake the lover for their own pleasure,
they are like great runners: they know they are alone
with the road surface, the cold, the wind,
the fit of their shoes, their over-all cardio-
vascular health--just factors, like the partner
in the bed, and not the truth, which is the
single body alone in the universe
against its own best time.

Sylvia Plath

Mirror

I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions.
Whatever I see I swallow immediately
Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.
I am not cruel, only truthful ‚
The eye of a little god, four-cornered.
Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall.
It is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it so long
I think it is part of my heart. But it flickers.
Faces and darkness separate us over and over.

Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me,
Searching my reaches for what she really is.
Then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon.
I see her back, and reflect it faithfully.
She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands.
I am important to her. She comes and goes.
Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness.
In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman
Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish.

William Shakespeare

[Th’ expense of spirit in a waste of shame]

The expense of spirit in a waste of shame

Is lust in action; and till action, lust

Is perjured, murderous, bloody, full of blame,

Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust;

Enjoyed no sooner but despisèd straight:

Past reason hunted; and no sooner had,

Past reason hated, as a swallowed bait,

On purpose laid to make the taker mad:

Mad in pursuit, and in possession so;

Had, having, and in quest to have, extreme;

A bliss in proof, and proved, a very woe;

Before, a joy proposed; behind, a dream.

All this the world well knows; yet none knows well

To shun the heaven that leads men to this hell.