The four seasons
winter
the northern sun
biting my skin
one sunny winter
how strangely different
its sting feels…
compared
to the familiar warmth
of the morning sun
of my southern homeland.
spring
the north wind
blew its gentle breath
and the earth cold and dry
responded softly….
with open lips
the parched corner of her mouth
in anticipation …
moistened…
summer
a boiled tea, i drank a cup
hot air around exploded,
sweat trickled down my armpits
refreshing the body that longed
for the cool beach by the sea.
fall
autumn came and one by one
beings stood naked
gently, silently
surrendering
ah…freedom!
22 Kommentare:
ah the old poet jack. i also do poetry sometimes. but its always mushy im sometimes embarrassed.
A sample. heheheh!
Should life be like a free verse?
Oh tell me, Wisdom of the ages.
Should life be like a free verse
Where souls could break the rules
And destinies by will are forged?
Should it be like lust where Ovid roams
Or Plato’s world where reason rules?
Then life must be like a free verse
Where passions clash in blood and tears.
Should it really be like a free verse
Unfettered by rhyme, unbounded by meters
A savage dancing in the storm
Running wild like a white unicorn?
Could the heart fly on the wings of the mind?
If yes, then life indeed is a free verse
Where struggling souls could smash the walls
And unconstrained to set the norms.
nice stuff you have there, dave! i too used to be ashamed about what i wrote, until i realized that poetry is not only for the genius. i may not create lines like e.e. cummings or rainer maria rilke or my hungarian favorite gyorgy faludy, but hell, poetry is like a zen 'koan', the meaning of which lies only between the practitioner and his teacher, or in this case, between the poet and his reader. the rest of the world doesn't exist. corny stuff or whatever, my poetry has another important function: it's a form of therapy.
i'm intrigued, though, about what you meant by these lines:
Could the heart fly on the wings of the mind?
If yes, then life indeed is a free verse
Where struggling souls could smash the walls
And unconstrained to set the norms.
i have an inkling, but won't tell...
i totally agree. its really about therapy for me. to keep my sanity.
well, its open for interpretation.. hahahah!
lol, you know what got a similar poem which i wrote in german, i'll translate it to you when i have time. am asking myself were we misplaced then in the pol.sci dept? gosh, we can give sheilfa or telay stiff competition! lol
wait, i have something for you in english:
Waiting Game
waiting for words
to form in the mind
to create this
offering of love
but nothing came
except angst
of rejection
of being
not worthy enough
so I tear off this page
to rush and embrace you
as you sleep
in my dreams
tonight.
oh my goodness, jack. i can just imagine... hahaha! yeah that one is poignant.
see my recent post; its a poem about "journeys and reminiscences."
ok. ill share you this one: hehehe...
THE LILITH
The lilith crept up my nightmares
Through a narrow bridge unlit.
She came in drifting
Like a ghost from Innana's lair,
A beguiling striptease in the wind
Sweeping across the rugged hills,
An earthly lover in the wraith-like realm.
But like the morning mist,
She slips through my claws
As the roosters break the dawn.
With a temptress' smile she fades away
From the last strands of darkness
To escape the warmth of day.
Because she is a lilith
From the twilight of history,
A tormentor of ruthless hunters,
Who comes dressed as Ishtar's daugther,
She slips stealthily into the night
To posses men’s hopes and dreams,
Across a heartless bridge unlit.
and to think we are not even as flip... lol!
jesus christ, dave! oh, my, oh my, this one is dark, sweet and beguiling. did you try meth when you write this one?
and to think we are not even as flip... lol!
maybe that's just how we think. See your poem Lilith, as evidence...lol
in my mail, i'll send you the provocative exchange I have with S
meth?! no. of course not. i have never tried any. hahaha!
ah sheilfa, i guess she hates me. she hasnt been returning my text messages.
this poem thing, i didnt know i could do it. its a recent passion. but i wrote one blog post and a friend asked if i do poetry. no, i said. she said i should try. then waiting at the Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf for a meeting, i saw this thing, I mean this creature. I reached for a tissue paper and the result is this poem:
COFFEE BEAN
As I paid for my day’s elixir
A frothing grail from the wilds of Brazil
Came in an earthly apparition
Floating amidst the weary throng
Lush ebony strands of hair
Streaming down like lingering lust
Tight, slender frame bronzed by summer
Piercing eyes that burn like ember
Rippling flesh against tank tops and barbarian’s trousers
Silken garments as thin as heathens’ prayers
A bewitching happy face; a mermaids midnight song
An angel from the heavens, in a sinner’s thong?
by the way, could i introduce you to my network? so they could invite you?
i like these lines!!!
go ahead, but am I worthy enough to join your illustrious circle?! lol
they are my friends. just like you.
and I hope, in time, they'll be mine, too, even if only virtual (sorry, for the unintended pun)!
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