Showing posts with label Poems. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Poems. Show all posts

Sunday, July 31, 2011

Six Poems

Success (Haiku Poem)

So many people
Work long hours, even weeks,
Without successes.

Tell me

If I could twist your mind,
If I could change your thoughts
And if I could absorb all your sadness,
Tell me that you would give me a smile,
That smile so disarming,
Tell me that you would give me a first kiss.

Certainly, I would feel an overwhelmed desire,
As our encounter would begin.

Tell me that you would take me
To your heart,
When the gestures would become thrills
And some cries would become symbols of things....

Certainly, I would be yours
And you would be mine.
I would stay perfectly there for sure,
In a moment of self forgetfulness.

And if another one had been
With you
Instead of me,
Tell me that you would have felt so much sorrow that
You would have abandoned her
To be with me....

Tell me that you knew that I had known this.

Even so, I let you go,
Being unable to break that invisible wall
To be together.....

Terminus Sam Shing

When dinning thunder rolled into madness,
Among the flowers and the wind of spring,
Your lost soul was embedded in sadness
To walk right to the Terminus Sam Shing.

With white clothes and lost thoughts, you were alone,
In aftertime, for thinking to your choice.
With dropping tears, I'm much more like a stone.
I would have singing, but I had no voice.

You didn't try to live your dreams with me.
Your agony meant shivers from black hole,
Your sad soul never wanted to be free,
You're the destroyer of your proper soul.

Like a child-Haiku

Carrying on all
The plans for the future self,
Impossible plans.

The baritone singer

The magic.
Across the dreaming sky,

Memories and tears
Hanging down
Magnolias
In crying bouquets,

Illusions
Trying
To please the pleasant sound,

Certainties
Existent inside
Despite an indistinct understanding,

The sky having the same stars
Mixed with
The same dreams,
The stars having the same shine,

The baritone singer
Trying
To sound the pleasantness,
Trying
To please the soundness,

The baritone singer
Trying
To dream his star,
Trying
To star in his own dream.

The dark kinetic love

The dark love,
Grieving my darkness,
The red meat
And the blood of my sadness,
Carving in the sand
Its shadow,

The scissor,
Lurking in grass
Its soft violence
For the kinetic buds
And the returning sap through the
Needles eyes
Of the tree,

The wayward yearning
To share the string waves
Of starting, stopping
And restarting,

Forever kinetic,

Two feelings meeting
For becoming then one,
Like words entwining
To give life unto that is itself.

Dark clouds flushing the wound.


View the original article here

Spenserian Sonnet, Double Rondelet Triolet - Love Poems

Spenserian Sonnet

I wait the ocean waves to wash my soul
My heart races touching your deep Spirit's kiss,
My tear's curb crumbles greening my shrink cry.
The softness of your voice soothes my abyss.
My soul torn apart wondering to know why.
Wrong thoughts and so cruel wait my tears and cry
The terrors of love just give them a black yard
And my loneliness makes my sad soul to die,
When to sink my reality it's very hard.
I wait my hope, which will never come to guard
This hope hunger squeezes tighter my soul's knee.
I'm clinging to the past which is like a shard,
That part which is still alive inside of me.
Much more confused on how to think or feel,
I talk, I dream and I am your balance wheel.
Spring (Double Rondelet Triolet)
With a deep touch,
The red poppy awakes the grass.
With a deep touch,
Red wants green's vibration so much,
The sun awakes the sky's watch glass.
The sky vibrates like a string bass,
With a deep touch.
The red flowers bloom in the Spring
When the time of the green grass comes.
The sky vibrates like a bass string.
The red flowers bloom in the Spring.
I see the nature's purest swing.
The wind searches his bongo drums,
The red flowers bloom in the Spring
When the time of the green grass comes.
I see His love
Like a white lily among thorns.
I see His love
Like in clefts of the rock, a dove.
When red flower its grass adorns
And her dead Winter, Spring mourns,
I see His love.
Shadows are inlaid in color
When red poppy awakes the grass.
When the land is multicolor,
Shadows are inlaid in color.
When the cuckoo is a caller,
The sun awakes the sky's watch glass.
Shadows are inlaid in color
When red poppy awakes the grass
State of wakefulness
When you look at me,
My painful thinking stops and turns into tears.
Your unsaid words are still waiting,
Uttered to be expressed,
By cramming into palate.
I know them all,
As you know your fingers,
Which, apparently, touch me tenderly,
While they send me the thrill of separation.
Stone statue
I am like a stone statue,
In a sitting position,
I'm your throne,
On which you nicely
Take place
From time to time.
In order to kiss me
With the kiss of death,
You nicely take your place
Inside of me
From time to time.


View the original article here

Saturday, July 23, 2011

Puppet to the Little Gods and Poems on Huancayo

Poetry

El Tambo Spiders

(Inspired by living in El Tambo for eight years)

When it's cold in Huancayo

The spiders know

They crawl on the walls...

Along my window sills

(in El Tambo);

Along the seams within my rooms

Under my bed,

Making cobwebs...! (and when)

I'm asleep they swing on hinges

Fall and crawl on my brow,

And bite me somehow,

Especially on rainy nights...

You'd be surprised how much

They know-

About my apartment, and its

Few rooms...:

Looking and prancing about,

As if they owned the house-

Bodies brown, black and gray...!

Wish they'd leave me alone

At least on the weekdays...

No: 1845 (5-26-2007)

(Dedicated to the dwellings in El Tambo)

The Great Wings of the Condor

(Poetic Prose)

The Condor looked straight into my eyes (three feet away);speed out its gothic like wings, that stretched from heal to brow and beyond me...and said to my brain, with those deep piercing eyes: "What winged creature is greater than I?" And I knew of none-then he lowered his head to embrace his breast-as if to say: "Go one now" -then lifted his brow, tall he stood, and proud.

No: 2946 (6-5-2011)

Old Man and the Lion Cubs

(Poetic Prose)

A quiet morning, dim light (sublime, with the sun breaking through the chill),and then not even that-

He stood with two lion cubs round him (three-months old) at a loss(at first) and having sacred feelings under his breast...!

The old man scared the cubs a bit (unintentionally, with his slight movements) which produced deep-rooted sounds, familiar sounds, like a common roar from a jungle-that in time these two lion cubs, would crack branches with.

Now the old man held the cubs (first the female, than the male);undisturbed, and it eased their heavy breathing.

"One aged old man-and two new born lion cubs can fill three restless hearts-" the old man whispered to himself, holding one of the two fluffy little lions, that was exploring its new world.

It's so; they did it on a cool summer's morning, once upon a time, in Huancayo, Peru.

Note: Written eighty hours after visiting the Huancayo, Zoo, on a Saturday morning-the author, Dennis L. Siluk, held, played, and familiarized himself with the two lion cubs, three months old: written at 4:30 p.m., no: 2945, 6-4-2011...

Puppet to the Little Gods

((Poetic Prose)(The Case of Clinton Alexander Hamilton))

Clinton Alexander Hamilton, in his mid-twenties started to read books of all kinds, hundreds and hundreds of books. First historical, and then he became absorbed in anthropology, psychology, zoology, archeology, biology, sociology, the cosmos, philosophy, theology, military science. You name, he probably read on it-each decade he read more and more books.

Then he got into studying and reading and contemplating the great figures those who he figured were great figures, of what he considered were great men and women, certain men that applied to his character, like: soldiers, leaders, artists, all who appeared to stalk across the pages of books, newspapers, television, radio, talk shows, heroic figures-such as: Ernest Hemingway, William Faulkner, Sherwood Anderson, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Sylvia Plath, Emily Dickenson, Robert Frost, Robert Bly, General Pershing (WWI), General Ariel Sharon (Israel), Alexander the Great, Napoleon, even devilish figures, like: Hitler, and Stalin, Caesar and Pompeii.

As for the actors, it was a flash, he couldn't think of any that were great, perhaps Humpty Bogart who might live on in history, other than that, it was no more than a passing thought for him, but he got thinking of singers and artists such as might fit the bill: Elvis Presley, the Beatles, Johnny Cash, Rick Nelson, Nat King Cole. Even Picasso, Dali and Rembrandt fit his bill for heroes in the art area, and Yang Yang; they all seemed to stand out, even Hitler, whom was a great artist besides his dementia. They all seemed to stand out among the following flock, a little taller than the average goat; they all seemed to stack starkly up among the other figures in books, even in reality or at least stand out. Even Bin Laden, Saddan Hussein, Poll Pot, heroes of the damned, like Nero, Timberline and Ganges Kong.

And then into the embellished sciences, books written by Darwin, Carl Sagan, and Stephen Hawking, until his mind went in circles, as their theories did-so he felt.

He read books on all these figures, men of their times, of his time, devoted himself to studying them, their personalities. What made them tick, who they were; most human beings live and die, and that is that, no one ever knowing they had existed, but these few, these few people would be remember for awhile, like Honor and Plato, Aristotle, Einstein, thinkers, and his kind, and those we just mentioned. What made them godlike? Why were they hungry to become little gods among men? They, like him all had committed the seven deadly sins. Was it better to be plain, or was it better to be remembered as a little god among men, not a question, just a thought he felt seeping out of his characters like osmoses.

There was something beautiful and ugly about all this, about him, he lived in his own state, he had to-who could live in peace inside such a mind, and he had a furnace burring inside that head of his, burning stronger than the sun. Perhaps better trained minds could have answered his questions outright-if indeed he had them, but he was looking for answers, not knowing the questions, just a pure task of thinking over and over, endlessly, trying to dot all the i's in all the books he was reading, trying to put all those thoughts into cages if indeed they'd fit.

"It is a troublesome thing" he deliberated out loud, not talking to anyone in particular, just mumbling to himself, standing on the street corner of Real and Puno Streets, across the street from the Plaza de Arms, in an Andean City. "It is troublesome," he repeated, adding "on how man works against himself, defeating the great bear for his hide, something he no longer needs, and perhaps never did need. Walking about with certain nobility for himself, as if he himself is the God of the earth, it's all garrulousness..." so he told himself, "one half of us are leaning over the edge of the world laughing at the other half below, marked for their barrenness; just a hubbub of voices."

Verily within himself, he told his second self: "It might have been better had I never read a book," thinking of the thoughts of other men. It all became too toiling-too word consuming; hence, a puppet to the little gods.

Perhaps the best ending I can think of for this prose ditty, is this: if we have contempt for mankind, we must also have it for ourselves, otherwise it's all futile pride. He, Mr. Clinton Alexander Hamilton, never read about that.

No: 2954 (story: 816) 6-10-2011


View the original article here

Friday, July 8, 2011

Radiance - The Poems

RADIANCE

A glaring ray to make the hey
set the fire to daze the dark in its fray
Cooler the nights; warmer the day;
Suffice a cause for the fray;
Until dawn in night's prey; that glaring ray waits the moment to make a hey.
By reaching peak, it starts to bleak;
That blazing ray, till dooms day die-hard to make a hey.

MY PRAYER

The storms that frightened me even when I were on shore,
now surrounds, tries to blow and mingle me through its course;
On the shore, I prayed long and long for a port
to stand against all adversities, whether or not there a storm;

What shall I do struggling with the storms;
but to wait for that moment when can I win over the storm.

FORGIVE ME

Forgive me, I forget;
I forget thee for a while, please forgive me
I forget thy love, thy warmth I received;
Please forgive me

Thou could forgive me nor me;
I love thee for thy love; please forgive me

LORD MOTHER

'O' Lord Mother,
Who am I to you extol as always facing you
with a begging bowl for a handsome dole
Your dole have trumpeted up my soul with a small fraction of affection
Although it is for you; but suffice for me to go through
The ups and downs; when cried you are found

QUALM

Who am I?
A man who toil for personal needs;
A man who toil for others'deeds
Who am I?
Who is mine?
A person who is in need,
A person who has some greed
Who is mine?

What is the truth?
That I like, that I dislike;

Doubts ae there,
but answer is where?

FAITH

Not easy to remain tied
with faith, sincerity & truth, all over in the life:
When feel I should accommodate,the inner self hurts, shocked,
and made me to cry,
Near and dear, when did not oblige,
I went deep into search; come out when found,
everyone there lives in malice.
A hoping ray struck, the darkest night of impatient soul,
eyes can twinkle and heart can blink,
For that ray, which may struck on same day.

BENIGN MOTHER

You live in my soul,
In chase for you, you come very close;
When on the brink, of to sink
You come from the heart, uplift my moral, in an eyes' blink;
I am none, but you everyone,
'A loving mother', 'A great guide',...........
Silly be said, if neglect, this Stone of mile;


View the original article here

Friday, July 1, 2011

Two Poems

The Era
There's one era in my life that I'll never forget. I tried and hoped to bring it back, but that hasn't happened yet. it's the era of a girl who had the love that I cherished since we met, our love was sweet and fragrant, everyone called her my pet.

but one of those days, when our flow would go bad, we had this fight; I had to ponder and wonder again...... what she did wasn't right. but her love was now hiding, her presence I was missing, I needed them back in my sight; so I ran to her, beggin' to have her back- with all my might. my guys were like- 'what! how could you do that? men you must be weak. you're the man in this game; treat her hard till she's meek. it'll only take a week.'

a long while after that, we had another bitter flow, now I thought I was smarter. I scolded her down and said 'if you don't change, I'll stroke you much harder.' she walked out on me, I thought I had won and so I felt real cool; two weeks went by, she never came back, I knew I'd been a fool. now I'm missin' her crazy, she's my only lady but she won't talk to me.

that's the era in my life, i'm trying to bring back, "I'LL COMPROMISE GIRL, TOTALLY!"

A lil' love from nature

Have you seen an eagle glidin' high in the sky? far above all struggles we'll soar, knowing no high.

Have you seen a swallow make its nest in due season? just what we should do to shelter our love for every reason.

Have you seen a leopard catch and devour its prey? let's not give this opportunity a chance to run away.

Have you seen the ant gather till all its stores are full? that way we'll plan our future, we won't be chained with the fool.

Have you seen a beaver make a dam in running streams? so we'll build our homes, even in hardship's beams.

Have you seen a hen shielding her chics from harm? let's shield the fruits of our love, yet hold on to love's charm.

Have you seen butterflies fluttering in a flower garden? so peaceful and full of grace, as the love in our garden.

Can you see that there's much more to nature? it shows of God's love; let's ride in all its beauty, as it is from above.


View the original article here

Monday, June 27, 2011

Love Songs And Poems

YOU MAKE ME VERY HAPPY

You are my joy and my life
I've given you everything
Just for you my love

And how you make me very happy
Though I'm just a friend you see
But there's a time you've to be away
"Oh would you please stay?"

Just call my name
And I'll be there
And you make me glad
With you my dear

You are my love and only one
So please just stay by my side
for a while, my love...

WHY DON'T YOU COME ALONG AND SING WITH ME

Maybe I can be wrong
But it's you who I belong
I am singing you this song
Just for you to know me long

So why don't you come along
And sing with me tonight, Oh baby...
Come along and sing with me!

You see it in my eyes
The love that reflects in me

Though you have doubts in mind
But darling there were no lies...

YOU MADE ME FEEL YOUR LOVE

I need you close to me
I want you to hold me
Its you who I want to be
So please stand by me

I need your arms around me
I love you more each day
Its you who I want to be
So please stand by me

You made me feel your love
Don't make me wait for love
This time, my love...

YOU HAVE TOUCHED MY LIFE

Mmmm everything that you do to me
Oh babe I could sing you a song
You made my life so beautifully
And I have no more to ask

Because every time I see your face, babe
I could shout with joy
You have touched my life

Mmmm no one else I would love this way
'Cause babe, you alone who i love
You gave your love so endlessly
And I have no more to ask

Because every time you touch my face babe
I could hear a song
You have touched my life

And every time you're near me baby
My heart beats a song...
You have touched my life!

I DO LOVE YOU

I love you

And in so many ways

I show

I care for you

Without a word

I know

You do love me too

And I feel it so...

I can hear it in your laughter

I know

It's you I love

I can see it in your eyes...

When you are near
I feel you all the while
With your touch
With your kisses
And just everything
You do to me...

I do love you!

MY SWEET VINCOU

When you do needed me
I'll always be there
When you do needed me
I am always there

When you do want me
I am there
When you do want to love me
I'll be there to give you
All my love

I'll give you all the joy
I'll sing to you my love song
As sweet as you want it to be
Oh my love
Mmmm my sweet Vincou

Oh darling, I love you so
My sweet Vincou

I love you babe
And you knew...

I choose to pour out the love I have to shine on everyone that I meet and inspire them with my writings and/or short stories of encouragement and enlightenment. We just only started. Journey with me and experience the joy of adventures of giving love unconditionally and enjoying the life we experience in this universe we live in.
Your love for fun and for keeps...
Tiffanie King

A day in the life of Me...all my travels, adventures and all kinds of writings... You are all welcome. Feel free to follow me here: http://raffleberry.weebly.com/
http://lovebytesonair.blogspot.com/


View the original article here

Visions Of Angela Gheorghiu And Other Poems

Visions Of Angela Gheorghiu

Some poetic phrases regarding the lovely visions of motion which Angela Gheorghiu be on to my eyes.

Ay visions of Angela
be effortless smile with eyes a dark
ruby lips demonstrate boundless joy
as with enthusiasm of child she gazes

Ay visions of Angela
be of grand lady's sensuality
needing nay escort on to carnality
yet be of charm as to entice adoration
thus being how emotions deliver
on to my Angela all which I hold dear

Ay visions of Angela
enjoying repast with grace
raising fork upon tender orifice
or flute of bodily crimson grapes
to lips in cheers of luscious nip

Ay visions of Angela
be ever ornate as she in bravado
remove satin of cover to rose
with care of damsel in act of beauty
pure elegant sensuality in dignity
of grand diva

Ay visions of Angela
stamped in canvas of time and space
delicate deity of femininity
provide symphony on to my sight
as simple movement enchant
peeling silk a black from pale wings
all in charm she bewitch the night

Ay visions of Angela
in slumber of peace she lye
devilish smirk to cherish
coquetry my adulation feeds
for female divine

Ay Angela be ever sophisticated
motions of elegance whilst the most minute
paints delight in air

Angela Gheorghiu's Ride In The Clouds

A poem about the way I see it would be like to be Angela Gheorghiu's lover.

How I sleep at night
uncovered is delight
of my Angela
muscles on display
for my Angela to caress
in hours of slumber
my Angela descend
loving attentions of embrace
wings of silks in shades of beauty

How I sleep at night
visions of Angela
glorious mane as night
homage stars of twilight
Angela with eyes a playful
enchant as ruby lips depict
joy of one ever so tender
on to fantasies of flight

How I awaken
Angela descends with rose a crimson
commence ride of night on cloud to drift
about as on wind of storm
My Angela gliding on white delicacy of sky
whilst thunder thrives
My Angela's nails driving desires
on to my flesh
My Angela inhaling root of passions
all in lustful rage of deity

How I sleep whilst dreams of Angela
prance as pictures of splendor
gazing upon lady of ecstasy
my Angela force divine of Asgard
in adoration of flesh

When I Cried (Dedicated To Angela Gheorghiu)

A poem about making love with tears.

When I cried
desire came in tears
down in despair
all my fears

When I cried
about was emptiness
mine was loneliness
thine warmth lacked shyness

When I cried
clothes we shed
breasts you caressed
kisses my body covered

When I cried
my rose moistened
root of thee ventured
on to desire of my garden

When I cried
wings of mine elevated
acts of passion we created
bodies in lust elated
made we love enchanted
did we when I cried

The Force Of Tranquility

A poem dedicated to the forces of nature which provide us with the tranquility most of us at one point or another crave for in our lives.

The force of tranquility
is the beauty of nature
in the sculpture of a tree
reaching faithfully to infinity

The force of tranquility
gliding in the wind
about the world with originality
inspiration moving passive clouds
along with initiative in mentality

The force of tranquility
in the call of creature tender
of delicacy to harmonies render
in symphony on to emotions

The force of tranquility
lye in spirit of humanity
romantic delight in treasures
artistic ideas enchant pleasures
lovely soul of sensibility
encounters tranquility

My name is Gianni Truvianni, author of many an article to be found on the internet along with the book "New York's Opera Society". My works also include the books "What Should Not Matter", "Love Your Sister" and several others which still remain unpublished though I am presently looking to change this.


View the original article here

Poems About Faith

OUR LOVE

Our love is pure
Beyond our human horizon
And outside of time.
Our being becomes profound
And instantly expanded in the blissful infinite.
We begin to feel the deification of our souls
Because The Lord is infinite love.
We are a part of Him
Because we are His creation.
He is a part of us
Because the Holy Spirit is
A part of our mind and our spirit.
He gives us the gift of freedom.
We give Him our freedom.
It is the only way to complement Him.
We give Him our indelibly unique beliefs
And we extrapolate this awareness to our souls
We extrapolate our souls to the universe
And we extrapolate the universe to Him.
Our love becomes
A resurgence of self-esteem, a self-resurgence.

PROPHECY

Don't lose your own hope at sixty.
You'll reach your next nice destiny.
One thing you'll never really know,
How it could be with me in a real show.

Don't bother to make a future plan,
To change what is already done.
It's nothing to lose and I can explain,
That you will be so tired working in vain.

Maybe I know you from another life,
But I wanted to be another man's wife.
Why I did this and how it could be,
I know 'cause I met my own prophecy.

Don't lose your hope; you'll be happy some day.
The world is yours and you have nothing to pay.
If you get crazy, when I'm talking about love,
Maybe is something coming to you from above.

But don't be sad 'cause you can get everything
In this world of yours, except on little thing,
But you need a heart and to be good to get it.
It's too much to pay, so better forget it.

So don't lose your hope at your own sixty.
It's time to reach your next alive destiny.
One thing you'll certainly never know,
How it could be with me in your real show.

OUR THRILL

Like two angels flying
And touching each other
With their trembling
Wings.

OUT OF SPACE AND TIME

When God is seemingly nowhere,
He is certainly deep within ourselves.
We search Him at that core of the core,
Out of space and time,
Where darkness and coldness cannot be
Delved into the past
We search ourselves in our wintry wretchedness.
Pure consciousness is God
In all things,
But only the human beings are conscious of
His presence,
Being with Him.
It's absolutely no way to explain why
This frozen unconsciousness of the clay
Can rise to an enlightened consciousness.
Sometimes we are sharp rocks,
Having the consciousness of a stone,
Which is so formless, inchoate and
Sometimes empty,
Waiting His flood in early spring
For washing our sinful being,
Waiting the light,
Which speeds without mass
In non-existing space and time
For lightening our inner soul of nature


View the original article here

Types of Short Poems - Haiku

Short poetry is a favorite amongst many young authors, and why not? Poetry is a literature genre which encompasses a powerful set of tools set forth to explode emotion and bring about the best of authors.

One form of short poetry which young authors tend to love is haiku. Sadly, the haiku is often misrepresented by poets around the world. Many try to bring about their own definition to this type of short poetry. Again, sadly, this doesn't do justice to the poetic form. Nonetheless, whenever an artist tries to create art, it is fantastic. The world is definitely a better place with more art than less.

What is a haiku?

A haiku is a Japanese form of poem. In its original usage, it was an opening verse of haikai no renga, called a hokku. This opening verse consisted of a "cutting word" such as "ya" in Japanese (there is no English equivalent so normal punctuation such as a comma, colon, hyphen, etc are used), a word used to help the reader identify the season (actual names of seasons are often used, but words such as harvest, clouds, leaves, blossoms are as well), and a mora pattern of 5-7-5. A morae is not a syllable; it is a minimal unit of phonology used for timing and stress.

A mora is easy to find in many Asian languages, especially Japanese--where the equivalent is called "on." However, the English language is much more difficult when it comes to identifying morae.

Here are some general rules for morae:

The first consonant(s) of a syllable do not count as a mora. For example, the "d" in "dog" does not count as a mora.
The syllable nucleus counts as one mora in the case of a short vowel and two morae in a long vowel or diphthong. Consonants serving as the nuclei also count as one for short and two if long. For example, the "ai" in "tail" counts as two morae. Thus, the word has three morae. The "ai" and "l".
In the coda, a stressed syllable counts as a mora while unstressed syllables may or may not. There is no consensus thought on unstressed syllables in the coda.

A few examples of morae in words:

Jump = 2
Hello = 3
Cat = 2
Microscope = 8

Many people who write haiku claim the poetic form contains 5-7-5 syllables. However, this lengthens the poem an incredible amount, making the form much longer than it should be.

Here are the same words as before but as syllables instead of morae:

Jump = 1
Hello = 2
Cat = 1
Microscope = 3

Together, there are seven syllables but fifteen morae. Wow! What a difference. Over twice as many morae. This means, if these were used to create a haiku using the 5-7-5 syllable structure, the poems length would be at least twice as long. This is not what the original authors of haiku had intended.

If you are not comfortable counting morae, one school of thought for keeping the haiku a short length is to keep the poem under three seconds long while read. This will keep the poem roughly the same length, yet much easier for the English writer.

Next time you try to write a short poem, try writing it as haiku using morae. It will be an adventure and a great learning experience. If you have trouble counting the morae, just try to keep the poem under three seconds.

You may also wish to check out short poetry by Gary R. Hess or one of the many famous haiku poets.


View the original article here

Sunday, June 26, 2011

Writing Poems to Express My Feelings

I would love you

Between these dandelions,
Slowly blooming,
I meet love you, I would meet you.

With the taste of flower within our souls
And the mystery of the earth within dandelions,
I would kiss you, I would kiss you.

Until the petals will wither up,
With the mystery of our love within their yellow,
I would caress you, I would caress you.

Until the field will become completely white
And the wind will scatter seeds,
I would love you, I would love you.

Until I would feel your being,
Until you would feel my being,
I would hold you, I would hold you.

And even until our temples will become white,
And even until everything will get old inside of us.
I would stay with you, I would stay with you.

Until the light, that floods everywhere
Would vibrate the truth within to understand
That the bloom is unique and unrepeatable,

I would love you, I would love you.

Identify Yourself

You think you know who you are,
Or
You don't know who you are at all,
Or
You identify yourself as someone you aren't,
But
You will never find another one
Exactly like you
In Universe....

I'm glad that you understand

I'm glad that you understand my situation
'Cause that idea was an aberration
It gives me no mental satisfaction.
To do this I don't feel any elation.

That person needs a little adulation
And I definitely accept my resignation,
When writing words without any sensation
Means there is no implication.

I can ignore that and try to be successful,
But I cannot be forever disrespectful,
'Cause all my life I tried to live so careful,
I want my acts to be completely misdoubtful.

I understand that your life is truthful
And your feelings are very trustful,
Your lines are not at all unskillful,
Your feelings make me completely blissful.

Jealousy
I understand that your unresisting jealousy,
Which can never occur with pure ecstasy,,
Can provides an excuse for you, and she
Can be more tempted by sexual infidelity.

So, the honest feeling of love you may express,
Which begins the sentence with this word: noblesse,
Exists, 'cause you are born with natural finesse,
But this kind of relationship just cannot progress.

You need to find your lost passion again,
With love and kiss to irrigate again her vein.
To love without any constraint is so humane,
When tenderly her feelings she can regain.

You think that a new floor can start your dance,
When the intimacy of partner dance can enhance
Deep love again and the whole ecstasy by chance,
Which can bring back the glory days and old trance.

The jealousy is sometimes like a yellow loose strife,
'Cause yellow it's by its nature having its scent of life.
Love treats suspicions and cruelties which are so rife,
When more than she loves him a man can love his wife.


View the original article here

Saturday, June 25, 2011

True Love Poems: Words for Feelings

Love stories. True love poems. I love you poems. The world over, people fall in love. And the world over, people feel the need to put the feeling into words.

Sometimes the poems are romantic poems. Sometimes they're passionate and urgent. Sometimes they're gently erotic and sexy poems.

What does it do for us, to write and read sexy poetry, romantic poems, desperate and aching and secret and despairing poems?

When we're in love, the feeling grips us. Sometimes all we can do is think of whoever we love.

And when we're not in love, we may want to get back a taste of that feeling.

Maybe most of all, to give a true love poem is to say, I love you.

To receive a this poem is to receive love.

Plus, poetry is known to get others to fall for us. The most famous Chilean poet, Pablo Neruda, was deluged by passionate letters from women he had never met - but his love poetry got them to fall in love with him.

Sometimes they're English poems about love. Sometimes they're Hindi, Urdu, French.

Over and over, it isn't enough for us to feel it. We search for the words to say it.

"A loaf of bread, a jug of wine, and thou."

"How do I love thee? Let me count the ways..."

One poem stopped me cold when I came across it. It's by John Donne, a famous British poet from a few centuries ago. It starts something like, "Shut up and let me love..." Not very romantic at all.

True love poems both express the feeling and arouse our emotions. For me, this poem by John Donne may his express his feelings. It doesn't arouse mine!

Why, by the way, don't we just settle on whatever we figure out are the best poems, the most romantic poems?

There are as many ways of feeling love as there are people. And even for any one person, it keeps changing.

There can be distant attraction, utter confusion, helpless falling in love, choosing to fall in love, easy content love, affectionate loving, urgent intense sexual passion, tenderness. And so we have plain old I love you poems, but also sexy erotic love poetry, passionate poems and on and on and on. Poems for him. Poems for her.

Poetry is like everything else about us - we share so much with other people, and yet we're unique.

How do I love thee? That poet counted the ways.

That is only the beginning.

Love poetry - feeling intensified, brought alive by words.

Elsa Schieder, writer and poet, has recently come out with a book of true love poems. An earlier collection is Love Gamble.
Visit Elsa's full site at:
Elsas-Word-Story-Image-Idea-Music-Emporium.com


View the original article here

Poems About Self

SEARCHING THE TRUTH

Nothingness of negation or
Negation of nothingness....
In self, we are the negation of nothingness,
But we allow the nothingness for self.
We allow the nothingness of consciousness
As a perpetual flight of the being.
We exist in self and we exist for self,
In a cartesian duality,
In a latin con-cretum,
When the certain being surpasses that being toward nothingness.
If Jesus did not exist,
the Christians would not be existent,
But Christians are existent.
No one can deny Jesus,as Son of the God,
And say that He is non-existent, at the same time,
As Son of The God,
Because no one can deny something that
Is non-existent,
As no one can deny the real essence of the existent.
The non-existent things are part of the reality.
He is existent in the Christian's mind.
He is non-existent in other's mind.
He is in idea.
There are too many wars for this idea..
Negation of nothingness
Lead to nothingness of negation,
In a double negation.
Jesus is necessary for salvation,
Jesus is essential for salvation.
We need to be sanctified,
We need to be better than we are.
Without the assertion of existence,
The negation cannot destroy it.
We have a metaphysical necessity,
While God has His necessity of Himself.
And what would be the purity of intention
And the truth
Without this?
The denial of noes, which means fertilization, at Hegel,
The absolute duty to tell the truth, at Kant...
The human lie at Schopenhauer.
The existence and the non-existence,
Seemingly, an irreconcilable antithesis....

SHOOTING STARS LIKE A RAIN

You passed me the same way
As the comet passed the earth,
Without touching it,
But leaving behind
A rain of false stars,
All of them being
Shooting stars....
I would like to meet you,
I would like
To be able to touch you,
But everything inside could become
Extremely painfully to us.
I prefer my solitude,
Elliptical as a rock,
Which is forgotten on the beach of an ordinary sea,
Which is increasingly deformed by the waves.
I prefer that solitude,
Which is increasingly misapprehended
By the people around the world.
Day by day, I become a stranger to myself....
I enter the timeless realm of change,
Leaving behind only memories
And a final wave, a little more tunefully....

SEEMINGLY ENDLESS

As the stars are shining at night
So it shines in my eyes the tear.
In silence, I can hold you tight
And I can feel our love, my dear.

When the stars touch the light of sun,
While they sparkle in the night,
I lay in my bed like a nun.
I feel my sadness and His sight.

I wait everything you give me,
I feel your deep thrill,when it rains,
You make me what I want to be,
A part of you, without deep pains.

As yellow stars are so endless,
The body is ephemerally.
While our feelings are timeless,
Our happiness is divinely.


View the original article here

Six Poems

Like King Lear

If you didn't dream up always new ideas
And if they didn't empower you
To make our dreams to become more real,

If you didn't dance in the rain,

If you didn't cry
For not being a child
Any longer,

If you were able to forget yourself
For falling away into your body,

If you never screamed
In the darkness,

If you didn't have
Enough courage
To make love
In the snow,
To feel
That snow melting on the ground,

Certainly you couldn't touch my soul,

Because I would prefer
To walk around
And to put my love in my hands
And, like a beggar, to stretch my left hand in your direction.

Moreover,

Like king Lear, to stretch my right hand in your direction,
Because if you really loved me,
I would never let you go.

Kiss Between Souls

We share
Our sadness.
I drink your tear,
You drink mine.
I drink you,
You drink me.
It's like a tender kiss
Between souls.

Kissing Conundrum

If I had kissed you
With one word,
Maybe that word would have died
Inside of you,
But I've kissed you
With all my words,
For you to be the miracle,
Who expresses them.
And if I kissed you with a question,
Maybe you would have pleased me
With another kiss.

Anthony and Cleopatra

If Anthony had loved Cleopatra
With a second less than he did,
Maybe he would have survived
And he would have won
The war with himself,
But he had loved her more than ever
Exactly in the second of his awareness,
And therefore, he died.
And Cleopatra should not even die
In the next second,
She would have to live,
In order to understand from her suffering
What means real love,
Because her love was insufficient
To fight against the destiny of history.

Like or Unlike

Like the yellow leaves melting softly,
Or unlike the blue wind blowing loudly;

Like the frost with no power of keeping the life,
Or unlike the warmth allowing the life to rise;,

Like a dying time in a scarlet autumn
Or unlike the birth of life in the green spring;

Like thinking of temporary in the elderly,
Or unlike the youth thinking of their lasting life;,

Like the innocence sighing in the bleeding love ruins
Or unlike the guiltiness laughing in the richness of bloody hate.

Life (Senryu)

Everything we do
Is pointless a life cruel joke
Of our own free will.


View the original article here