The Sound of Love...

It's 8 am in the morning…
Silver light spilling through the openings in the blinds:
The songbird signaling today is his and her play date.
I'm starting this day, in my place, in the circle of my lover's arms.
Eyes could no longer sleep, because the sound of poem
proclaiming love as natural as a bird professing his love
in the highest note, and arousing voices and images,
of my seeing and hearing you in mind and beyond.
Permission has been given to cease dreaming, instead dream out loud!
So, I stay nearby my poem to see, taste, feel, and hear
you anywhere awake or asleep.
I dozed off in your smile, yet am wide-awake, in your dreamy eyes.
When your arms wrap tight my waist, I feel the vibrato
of your fingers playing up and down my spine, likening
the melodious music Ilana plays on her Cello.
After all's said and done, we rose to the sound and aroma
of coffee dancing in water, under heat, reminding me of
our slow moves to the rhythm of that special song!
Dear, you need to know…
Ever since we met, you have been pen and paper
For every love poem penned:

Still, I can hear your baritone voice causing autumn leaves to fall and,
leaving me shaking like leaves in the cool mid afternoon breeze
Still, you stand strong like a Friendship Oak in my missed home State.
I'll ever stay present in the words my poem.
Your love likens spring
Exploding and bursting
Into blooms…
likening
The Sound of
Love
Resurrecting
The Silent Death
In Me…

By Almedia Knight-Oliver
November 25,2012



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I Thought To Begin The Day With A Poem

I THOUGHT TO BEGIN THE DAY WITH A POEM

I thought to begin the day with a poem
But inside myself I hear only my own slow emptiness
Word by word I try to hear
And there is some small motion now
But still
A real poem
A poem of beauty
A poem of light
A poem of love
A poem that makes the dreamer long to dream-
And the lover long to love-
A poem that moves-

Well it is very very dark outside
And the world straining to give
Small rain to a dry land
Seems to say,

‘There may be a poem today
But it is not the poem you dream
Not the poem others will love
As you have loved
True poetry.’

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A Poem Is Just A Poem

a poem is just a poem and if it is just a poem
it must be just a poem just like another poem

a poem is nothing but just a poem otherwise
it cannot be my poem; it may speak about

anything, or something, or about everything,
but my poem is just a poem just like anybody's

poem, which is just but a poem, like any other
poem, for a poem to be a poem it must just be

a poem: it has nothing to do with my love, and death
my life, or bliss, but as i have told you, once, twice

thrice, eat some rice, and be that wise, a poem is
just a poem, just like your poem. Why do you insist

on asking, what is happening to me? I am not a
poem, for i am but just the composer of the poem,

need i tell you again, that a poem is just a poem?
just like any other poem, which is just a poem

it is just a voice in my head that i have heard
someone comes and speaks and i listen so

this poem is not actually my poem but the poem
of someone else's: theirs not mine, from a mind.

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A poem for you...

I write a poem for you today,
to get a place in your heart for ever
A poem that could tell you my love for you
I write my poem with emotion and affection
for you to understand my deep thoughts for you
A poem to love and a poem to understand its soul
A poem to enjoy and a poem to understand its happiness
A poem to think and a poem to understand its way of life
A poem to learn and a poem to understand its content
A poem to sing and a poem to understand its melody
A poem to cry and a poem to understand its sorrow
There are poems I have written but this is specially for you
The poem could tell you how important you are for me
There are words comes out freely from my mind to write poem
but there are no words to find my love for you
Those words can not missed as I miss your love today
Let me have all those words put in to my heart and
say I love to write a love poem for you


Ravi Sathasivam / Sri Lanka

Copyright ©2004 Ravi Sathasivam

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Scribbler's Stymie

Pen and paper in sight
I've got no poem to write

Staying up all night
I've got no poem to write

Although my mind is bright
I've got no poem to write

It's windy out tonight, should I go fly a kite?
I've got no poem to write

My ceiling, it is white
I've got no poem to write

It's 4: 59! Five, but not quite
I've got no poem to write

In your arms I'd feel so light
I've got no poem to write

I've had no sleep tonight
I've got no poem to write

Will you just hold me tight?
I've got no poem to write

Outside it's almost light
I've got no poem to write

It's late, off goes my light
I've got no poem to write

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Please Don't Stop Loving Me When I'm Old

Our love rose with the fall of golden leaves
rough winter roots for gentle plants in spring.
It seems we were planted in earth, grew together,
and blossomed together.
When I pass, place a rose petal on my grave.

Sweet love is born out of souls; outside winds whistles;
stars and moon twinkles…All God’s handmaids.
In obedient to my heart, I entrust me to you.
Now, let’s continue on down lover’s lane,
Walking alongside grass holding
Baby shrubs on her lap.
Straining our ears we hear bird
Singing songs of praise
Reminding us of the good old days.

When clouds no longer hold the rain;
will you shower me with your love?
When my head is covered with snow;
will you forever be my beau?
When my eyes cease to be my panes
Will your arms my cane,
Please don’t stop loving me because I’m old.

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A Ode Poem To You

My mother gave me an ode poem, oh how I love that poem
The scene of her perfume on it, the picture of me in her arms
This letter I keep with me all the time, I love it so much I sleep with it under my pillow
To her nice hand writing, to the black ink she wrote in, she wrote until her ink went low

My poem is great, my poem is wonderful, to the white paper she wrote on it’s beautiful
To the green words of the title, my poem she gave me is the best
I love how she gave the lip stick print on the top of my poem, sad to say she's at rest
I will always love the poem she gave to me before she passed

To the words in the poem she gave me will always endure
Word by word my lovely poem is speaking to me gratefully
This ode poem was from my mom and for only me sincerely
I love my poem, oh how wonderful it can be

Its so wonderful do you want to read,
Take a look, take a look and you will see

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A Poem To Be Heard

A poem to be held

a poem to be fed, with words stronger than the ancient

spirits.

Ti's a poem to be read by all.

A poem that beats the heat of temptation away.

It's power in every single word attracts the moonlight.

A poem, a light in the dark wilderness.

A poem that is just needed and leaves the audience

speechless.

A poem that comforts a sad soul.

Read to me a poem

when I'm cold.

Read it to me till I'm old.

When I'm heart broken, a poem, a love, I'd want.

A poem, a victory through lives endless battle.

A poem an epistle to mine heart, and every written word

in it is heard.

A poem, about royalty, about Kings and Queens

and how they live in luxury.

A poem, a song about sweet heavens.

Read me a poem and slow my heart beat down.

A poem with a tasty flavor, I'd want to hear.

Read me a poem that explains how Nelson Mandela

conquered his fears.

A poem that can describe how Martin Luther Kings

felt when he fought for freedom.

I long to hear it,

Therefor read me a poem,

to be heard.

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Nothing..

This poem is not about love..
This poem is not about pain..
This poem is not about the things i have learned...

This poem is not for the broken hearted..
This poem is not for the ones seeking help..
This poem is not for the depressed...
This poem is for no one,
Because no one can contain nothing...

This poem is not filled with wisdom..
This poem was not written with love...
This poem was not written for a lover nor a brother...

This poem was nothing special...
Not quite remarkable....
But it is nothing because that what it was...
Nothing and it will never be anything...

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A Poem Especially For You

I write this poem,
Especially for you.
Hope you like it too.

I love this poem,
Hope you love it too,
Especially for you.

I love you so much that,
I Dream of you every night,
Especially be with you.

I write this poem,
Especially for you,
To remember your loving smile.

Give me your smile,
Give me your cheerful face,
Give me your Laughter.

Only this poem can,
Take your heart away.
Especially made for you.

I say this poem,
Especially designed for you,
In remembrance of our True friendship.

In this moment of life,
I share this poem
Especially with you.

In this precious memory,
I want you to know that,
I forever love you.

To say the right words,
At the right time;
Especially for you, is hard.

More than any right words,
I composed this poem,
Especially for you,

So that the world may know that
I fall in Love with you again.
Especially with you.

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The Poem About The Poem About The Poem

THE POEM ABOUT THE POEM ABOUT THE POEM

The poem about the poem about the poem
Written in dream
And forgotten in sleep
Comes back to me slowly now
As if it had been away on a long long journey
And is reluctant to come home-

I write it
But it really writes me
And when I try to make sense of what it means
It tells me its ambiguities
Are more important and interesting
Than my clarity-

The poem about the poem about the poem
Written now
May not be a poem about a poem about a poem at all
But may merely be my own playing with words
Which take the place in my life
Of really living-

A poem about a poem about a poem?
Surely this is a mysterious thing
If it exists at all.

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It Will Touch Your Heart!

Muse, infuse!
This poem is for you when you read it;
Because, i love you.
This poem is very special and,
It has the ingredients of love than hate;
So, take hate out of you and,
Bring in the light of love! !
This poem is for you because,
I love you;
And, this poem is here to guide you.
It will touch your heart!
Because, it is from my heart;
This poem is the poem of love,
Without hatred that leads to war! !
This poem is all that i have for you because,
I love you.
Smile and, let me see you laughing with the muse of love;
Becuase, i am here to share my love with you.
This poem has the spices of love and the aroma of romance waiting for you!
Because, it is from my heart.
This poem will touch you when you read it;
Because, i specially wrote it for you.
Muse, infuse!
With the joy of your heart;
Because, this is the true love that i share with you;
And, this poem will touch your heart because,
I love you.

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Dream Poem

this poem is a dream
you wish to escape

if only you would awake
you could forget this poem

words pursue you through
the white pages of this dream

the voices you hear have
been spoken by this poem

people reach out, they live
here, they dream of you

now you smile, eager to dream
on, but the poem is fa d i n g

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Body Snatcher

In season of red and gold leaves exchanging lush green
with the amber leaves dancing by the music of the wind
on their
descent to the ground to make a fresh start in spring.

Not to feel like a dependent child, he snatched the clip
board from my hand as if it were his body, then commence
taking his
eyes
ears
and voice back...
'Dearest wife,
I want [my] me back! '

I'll take 'Me' with tubes dangling from
[my] love handles and my drowning tears.
Even the heart that beats like a captive bird's.
All the fears crowding out hope. I'll
take all those cries that sound like
moaning wind.
I'll even take the hidden malignancy that's
yellowing my body throughout, but
I'll leave you my sweet heart!

Awakening from my ill, I commence
hovering over my own body like a
helicopter over a landing field.
Yet in great pain, I gathered up
left over parts.
'Nothing can ever take
you from me nor
I from you! '


By
Almedia Knight-Oliver
August 19,2011

My dear husband, realizing that you were not snatching the clip board
-from me-that held the application that elicits history about your health. I wrote this poem honoring the courage you've shown in the fight to destroy the disease attacking your body. You knew you had to snatch your 'body'(I was holding unto for dear life) from me, so that, together with love of family and friends we can defeat the disease!

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Let's Breathe #2

We get up every morning with a bounce in our steps…
or minus sense in heads to give into aches and pains.
Still understanding that every life must end and
some day we must go, so lets stay together
and breathe…

With laughter, we welcome wrinkles in face and necks
and remembering warm hands and red sweet heart;
watery kisses reviving withering flowers,
I'm thirsty for you, so, stay present in me
That we can breathe…

I count on your legs, arms, head and bread,
love and dove as cover for my sole.
I need you to stay with me; you need me to stay with you
So, Let's breathe.

The sound of love delivers my heart to leap,
unquiet soul to relax, and
anxious mind not act, and
to keep life alive.
let's breathe….


By
Almedia Knight-Oliver
December 2,2012

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The Poem That Comes From Hearing The Poem Of Another

The poem that comes from hearing the poem of another
And tries to ride on its rhythm
Like the sea on its own waves-

A forced music finding nowhere in itself a music of its own
Because all the poems are melodies made light by more light
As all the poems are dreams made dreamlike by more dreaming-

And we in our poetic fervor hearing that lyric sound
Go round and round again and again
As if we were the music of the stars
When the universe empirically spherical –

But now in this more deeply instrumented time,
When what we see with our eyes is always less than what we measure
Time and Time again tells us that Space and Space again tell us
That all we are in this long distance darkness
Is one small point of light which in its own sad way will fade out before its music endures-

For the stars have only our imagined music
and not more than the light
of their own violent dying –

So here having heard the poem of another
And open to my own inner voice,
I cry and cry again for another sky and another music
That only God Who is Beyond these earthly hapless sounds
Can Dream and Feel and Know
In the Lyric Ending that justifies our home.

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The Poem Of All The Places I Have Never Been

THE POEM OF ALL THE PLACES I HAVE NEVER BEEN

The poem of all the places I have never been
The poem of all the dreams I have not seen
The poem of others poems written in lines I have never imagined
The poem of the infinite – what-is- not and ‘what- will- never- be
The poem of seas and suns and sounds and Shakespeare’s sonnets,
The poem of words and only words whose sounds do not mean what we feel
The poem of all I would not and cannot write
The poem that is not and never will be in me
The poem I do not write
The poem I am not
The poem lost
The poem which itself is not a poem
The poem of the last contradiction and the first
The poem beyond the poem hidden within the poem
The poem which will never be a poem
The poem which is not
The poem I cannot dream.

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This is a poem....

This isn't a poem of one direction,
This is a poem about perfection.
This isn't a poem about who won the election,
This is a poem about correction.
This isn't a poem of getting it right,
This is a poem of standing up to fight.
This isn't a poem of being lost like a kite,
This is a poem about trying to find the light.
This isn't a poem of running tears,
This is a poem about chasing your fears.
This isn't a poem of love and hate,
This is a poem of destiny and fate.
This isn't a poem of the end,
This is a poem of a heart unable to mend.
This isn't a poem of cruilty and pain,
This is a poem of a thng i need to gain.
This isn't a poem of shame,
This is a poem of fame.
Thsi isn't a poem of the life i let loose,
THIS IS A POEM OF THE TRUTH.

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The Sound Of Your Cry

(words & music by giant - baum - kaye)
The clock by the bed is ticking too loud in the quiet night
I lie in the darkness thinking I must go before its light
Before you open up your eyes and you beg me to stay
Ill leave cause I cant stand to see you hurt this way
Sleep my love as I kiss you goodbye
Then I wont hear the sound of your cry
Though I knew the time was coming and our love would end somehow
I just couldnt bear to tell you exactly just when or how
I know we cant go on, that it was wrong to start
But if you wake up crying now, you know youll break my heart
Sleep my love as I kiss you goodbye
Then I wont hear the sound of your cry
Sleep my love as I kiss you goodbye
Then I wont hear the sound of your cry
Ohhhh, sleep my love as I kiss you, kiss you, kiss you goodbye
Then I wont hear the sound of your cry
Ohhhh, sleep my love as I kiss you

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The Poem About The Poem

The poem about the poem
And what is a poem?
And what is a poet?
And will the poem
Save me?
Help you?

And is writing the poem
The best I can do?
Or is it only words and more words?
Is the poem about the poem
For the poet only?
Or for each one reading and speaking and hearing it?

The poem about the poem
On this sunny spring Jerusalem morning
Peace and happiness in me -
The poem about the poem
For now.

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A Poem Without Music Of Its Own Is Not A Poem

A POEM WITHOUT MUSIC OF ITS OWN IS NOT A POEM

A poem without music of its own is not a poem-
I have lost the rhythm of my soul
I try-
I write these words
But where is the music?

Slowly slowly I strive
To listen to my own voice-
It sounds as if it comes from deep within me
Deeper than my own dreaming.

Is this a poem I hear?
Or only my own ambition and scheming?

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