Her name
"Marieta, Mareita, I uttered her name"
I was half awake and felt little shame
She was only few days close
I had chance with few nice moments to choose
Very nice face and silent nature
She may be looking like moon for sure
I told about this aspect to her
She was elated and same thing told me later
She was all set for best drive
Shape the destiny and relive
I found her best of all
She was beautiful, elegant and tall
I saw her in full blossom
In such scene she was seen seldom
She was behind curtain
Just staring with one in pain
Her eyes spoke of everything
Whole world reflected in eye and spoke of something
I tried to deep below but got no where
She may not allow me to dare
Dear, you are best and intelligent
As divine rose and heavenly sent
I need your company and want to present
Before world with head down words bent
She is unsure of my proposal
But I hope it may be met with approval
She is all for me and I have read those signals
I hope to sail through without any troubles
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Related quotes
With deep respect
I couldn't believe eyes
As she was no less then butterfly
Extremely beautiful and matter of joy
Any one would say "hello" and enjoy
Some of the human beings are just not ordinary
Some praise is must and I feel it necessary
No one can deny existence of almighty
So same is the case with the creative beauty
I was moved with her appearance
She was above all and came before me by chance
It was nice to see her in picture
An absolute and beautiful character with figure
"I see your reflection in beauty"
"From all the angles you are present o, almighty"
I can't take away my eyes
As I get up suddenly to visualize
You are with different form
I feel great and unusually very warm
Soul an heart synchronize with each and every bit
I smile internally, praise it and greet
"Can you not create picture in words"? She had replied
"Surely I can as it can be an order from lord" I relied
Made a point clear and tried to visualize each aspect
It was coming out as natural figure with deep respect
To err is human
But to love is divine
As you are helpless in game
No one can share the blame
Love is to felt from within
When you try to close in
It may be physical contact
But certainly a divine and graceful act
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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A.d.d
She told me that she had A.D.D
I asked her what was one plus two, she said: "three"
I was so impressed that I asked her again
What was seven plus three, and she said: "ten"
I asked her more additions and she got them all correct
She was very intelligent by what I could detect
Then as I tried to talk to her more, but she got distracted
I then tried to get her attention then she overreacted
She then told me something that threw me for a shock
Her having A.D.D, wasn't what I had thought
She could add quickly and correctly which was true
But paying attention to others she could not do
She was easily distracted from the projects she was on
And also forgetful from the tasks she's undergone
She said she is sometimes forgetful from day to day
Then she looked at me and asked; "what did I say? "
I asked her some more questions and she never listened
So I spoke directly to her, and her eyes they glistened
She spoke to me, then she called me someone else's name
"And I don't like to follow instructions! " to me she did exclaim
"I won't finish my work or duties or chores and I never will"
"Only thing that helps me, if and when I take a small pill"
"I will avoid the things that will take a lot of mental strain"
"As this is who I am, and my thoughts and my brain"
Then I asked her what was one plus one and she said: "two"
She then looked at me and walked away, and said: "adieu."
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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A Domestic Tragedy
Clorinda met me on the way
As I came from the train;
Her face was anything but gay,
In fact, suggested pain.
"Oh hubby, hubby dear!" she cried,
"I've awful news to tell. . . ."
"What is it, darling?" I replied;
"Your mother -- is she well?"
"Oh no! oh no! it is not that,
It's something else," she wailed,
My heart was beating pit-a-pat,
My ruddy visage paled.
Like lightning flash in heaven's dome
The fear within me woke:
"Don't say," I cried, "our little home
Has all gone up in smoke!"
She shook her head. Oh, swift I clasped
And held her to my breast;
"The children! Tell me quick," I gasped,
"Believe me, it is best."
Then, then she spoke; 'mid sobs I caught
These words of woe divine:
"It's coo-coo-cook has gone and bought
A new hat just like mine."
poem by Robert William Service
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The Gift
She paces
By his side
On a quiet street,
Leafy and wide.
The evening air is balmy
And a golden half moon
Of August
Hangs high
In the sky.
"How beautiful is the Moon",
She says,
"Brighter than in June.
"A pity it is not full tonight".
"You know",
He tells her smiling,
"This thing may sound
Really puzzling,
But,
The part missing
From the Moon,
Is actually hidden
In a lagoon.
Nevertheless,
I offer it to you as a gift,
Before the scene
Would alter and shift,
And for good measure,
Fortune and luck,
I will pluck
For you
The other half, too,
So that you will possess
And own quite soon
The complete moon".
"Oh, no", she says,
"I don't want the moon,
Neither half,
Nor the whole of it,
I don't want it soon
Nor in next June.
Not even a small part.
Just give me, instead,
Your uncut heart".
poem by Paul Hartal
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Sky Song
The flower of the Alps told the seashell: "You're shining"
The seashell told the sea: "You echo"
The sea told the boat: "You're shuddering"
The boat told the fire: "You're glowing brightly"
The fire told me: "I glow less brightly than her eyes"
The boat told me: "I shudder less than your heart does when she appears"
The sea told me: "I echo less than her name does in your love-making"
The seashell told me: "I shine less brightly than the phosphorus of desire in your hollow dream"
The flower of the Alps told me: "She's beautiful"
I said: "She's beautiful, so beautiful, she moves me."
poem by Robert Desnos
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The Ape And God
Son put a poser up to me
That made me scratch my head:
"God made the whole wide world," quoth he;
"That's right, my boy," I said.
Said son: "He mad the mountains soar,
And all the plains lie flat;
But Dad, what did he do before
He did all that?
Said I: "Creation was his biz;
He set the stars to shine;
The sun and moon and all that is
Were His unique design.
The Cosmos is his concrete thought,
The Universe his chore..."
Said Son: "I understand, but what
Did He before?"
I gave it up; I could not cope
With his enquiring prod,
And must admit I've little hope
Of understanding God.
Indeed I find more to my mind
The monkey in the tree
In whose crude form Nature defined
Our human destiny.
Thought I: "Why search for Deity
In visionary shape?
'Twould better be if we could see
The angel in the ape.
Let mystic seek a God above:
Far wiser he who delves,
To find in kindliness and love
God in ourselves."
poem by Robert William Service
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The Mighty Power Of The Pen
When I was young, you told me
That the pen was mightier than the sword.
‘Twas from those days I do believe
You showed me the power of written word.
Not only did you show that to me,
But you practised what you preached.
I watched you as you daily proved,
That to the furthest corner word could reach.
I have used this power in so many ways.
I have never known it fail.
When knowledge or point I wish to impart,
With the pen I just "set sail".
I really wish to thank you Dad
For the times I did not understand.
When I felt angry with myself and the world,
You placed a pen within my hand.
You taught me that there are many ways,
To say what is in my heart.
You told me that whatever I said,
To make it constructive from the start.
So as I look back along the years,
To the times when I said "No! "
I recall your voice and see your face,
And to the "power of the pen" I go.
I've learnt from hardship and from good,
That to help to change the world,
I must sit me down and constructively write,
When once angry words I'd have hurled.
poem by Rosi Caswell
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Drunken Memories Of Anne Sexton
The first and last time I met
my ex-lover Anne Sexton was at
a protest poetry reading against
some anti-constitutional war in Asia
when some academic son of a bitch,
to test her reputation as a drunk,
gave her a beer glass full of wine
after our reading. She drank
it all down while staring me
full in the face and then said
"I don't care what you think,
you know," as if I was
her ex-what, husband, lover,
what? And just as I
was just about to say I
loved her, I was, what,
was, interrupted by my beautiful enemy
Galway Kinnell, who said to her
"Just as I was told, your eyes,
you have one blue, one green"
and there they were, the two
beautiful poets, staring at
each others' beautiful eyes
as I drank the lees of her wine.
poem by Alan Dugan
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A Soldier's Reprieve
'Twas in the United States of America some years ago
An aged father sat at his fireside with his heart full of woe,
And talking to his neighbour, Mr Allan, about his boy Bennie
That was to be shot because found asleep doing sentinel duty.
"Inside of twenty-four hours, the telegram said,
And, oh! Mr Allan, he's dead, I am afraid.
Where is my brave Bennie now to me is a mystery."
"We will hope with his heavenly Father," said Mr Allen, soothingly.
"Yes, let us hope God is very merciful," said Mr Allan.
"Yes, yes," said Bennie's father, "my Bennie was a good man.
He said, 'Father, I'll go and fight for my country.
Go, then, Bennie,' I said, 'and God be with ye.' "
Little Blossom, Bennie's sister, sat listening with a blanched cheek,
Poor soul, but she didn't speak,
Until a gentle tap was heard at the kitchen door,
Then she arose quickly and tripped across the floor.
And opening the door, she received a letter from a neighbour's hand,
And as she looked upon it in amazement she did stand.
Then she cried aloud, "It is from my brother Bennie.
Yes, it is, dear father, as you can see."
And as his father gazed upon it he thought Bennie was dead,
Then he handed the letter to Mr Allan and by him it was read,
And the minister read as follows: "Dear father, when this you see
I shall be dead and in eternity.
"And, dear father, at first it seemed awful to me
The thought of being launched into eternity.
But, dear father, I'm resolved to die like a man,
And keep up my courage and do the best I can.
"You know I promised Jemmie Carr's mother to look after her boy,
Who was his mother's pet and only joy.
But one night while on march Jemmie turned sick,
And if I hadn't lent him my arm he'd have dropped very quick.
"And that night it was Jemmie's turn to be sentry,
And take poor Jemmie's place I did agree,
But I couldn't keep awake, father, I'm sorry to relate,
And I didn't know it, well, until it was too late.
"Good-bye, dear father, God seems near me,
But I'm not afraid now to be launched into eternity.
No, dear father, I'm going to a world free from strife,
And see my Saviour there in a better, better life."
That night, softly, little Blossom, Bennie's sister, stole out
And glided down the footpath without any doubt.
She was on her way to Washington, with her heart full of woe,
To try and save her brother's life, blow high, blow low.
And when Blossom appeared before President Lincoln,
Poor child, she was looking very woebegone.
Then the President said, "My child, what do you want with me?"
"Please, Bennie's life, sir," she answered timidly.
"Jemmie was sick, sir, and my brother took his place."
"What is this you say, child? Come here and let me see your face."
Then she handed him Bennie's letter, and he read if carefully,
And taking up his pen he wrote a few lines hastily.
Then he said to Blossom, "To-morrow, Bennie will go with you."
And two days after this interview
Bennie and Blossom took their way to their green mountain home,
And poor little Blossom was footsore, but she didn't moan.
And a crowd gathered at the mill depot to welcome them back,
And to grasp the hand of his boy, Farmer Owen wasn't slack,
And tears flowed down his cheeks as he said fervently,
"The Lord be praised for setting my dear boy free."
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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Stand by me
She asked "will you stand by me"
I wondered for a moment and felt so much free
From the old apprehensions and went just near
For repeat of those words from her to hear
It created a magic in air and spread like fragrance
I had waited long for it to hear at once
So many had repeatedly told me many times
That love is taking place only by chance
I dream nothing except your company
It might have been experienced by so many
I have different story to tell for all those
Who are really loving and honestly chose
It is wonderful to feel for each other
World is definitely nice place to live and bother
But here it is entirely different and meant for belonging
Time has now come to end the longing
It is spelling doom for dry spell
From now on everything may seem very well
Nothing will be serious for a time to continue
A different perspective from different angle to view
I feel mighty hands around waist
The heavy breath can be heard from chest
I need an extra courage to feel above normal human
It is in direction for making me complete woman
I dream about another world to live in
With total commitment and usher in
A place where sun and moon may shine with objective
Life shall remain totally committed and subjective
The phrase" stand by me "has its own relevance
Love now can't be told as happening by chance
It is on real land and will be shaped as we move on
The past may be remembered but reality may not be won
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Intimacy
I hear people say, "I love my iPhone, "
Or, "I love drinking a Starbucks coffee."
Sometimes: "I love my Versace cologne, "
And also: "I love having this money."
I hear people say, "I love my Walmart, "
Or, "I love the drive-thru at Taco Bell."
"I love my TV. It's state of the art."
"I love the shoes that Nike has to sell."
I hear this: "I love American Idol, "
And, "I love a nice, cold Budweiser."
"I love medicines such as Demerol."
And, "I love my internet provider."
Yet, one thing I don't hear is, "I love you."
Saying that is too intimate to do.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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Goodbye Mine M.j.
A "Stranger in Moscow" told me that you've gone!
But is it true that you've gone my M.J.?
And with tears in my eyes I say goodbye my M.J.
You who feeds the eyes and the ears
And has graced our African soil
But why did you have to go, you "Smooth criminal"
When you know "They don't care about us"
Tell me, who will "Heal the world"?
Who will make it a better place for us?
Who will give to the poor once and again to their necessity?
Who will be there for them in their anguish and pain?
O', know you not that admired you are of those that hate you most
And did you have to go; or where you too lonely?
But you said "We're the world" that "You are not alone"
Then why did you have to go? And did you leave another "Thriller"
If no, then why choose to be "The man in the mirror"
Thus dirge and elegy now met in my heart. Why?
"Do you remember the time" we first met in my dream
And "The way you make me feel" with your "Childhood"?
Oh king of pop, my M.J., "I want you back"
And you "Got to be there" for me on my birthday
To sing me your song, "Don't stop till you get enough"
While "Rockin Robin and Ben" "Off the wall" till they "Scream"
For your love is magical because you're angelica
You are so wonderful because you're beautiful
You are indispensable because you're irreplaceable
And now I see the "Liberian girl" cry because you're "Speechless"
And upon our bodies the nighted color of mourning you. Why?
Alas death! Why taketh him away when all that look on him yet not satisfied?
O', let not the world lose another "Michael Jackson".
Michael I love you "Yesterday, today and forever."
May the spirit light your way
Through the land of the shadow
To the halls of eternal peace. Amen.
In the cabinet of my imagination, in the treasury of my reason, in the registry of my conscience, and in the council chamber of my thought, there shall you live forever.
I LOVE YOU MINE M.J.
poem by Lightcheerful Briggs
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Faithless Sally Brown
Young Ben he was a nice young man,
A carpenter by trade;
And he fell in love with Sally Brown,
That was a lady's maid.
But as they fetch'd a walk one day,
They met a press-gang crew;
And Sally she did faint away,
Whilst Ben he was brought to.
The Boatswain swore with wicked words,
Enough to shock a saint,
That though she did seem in a fit,
'Twas nothing but a feint.
"Come, girl," said he, "hold up your head,
He'll be as good as me;
For when your swain is in our boat,
A boatswain he will be."
So when they'd made their game of her,
And taken off her elf,
She roused, and found she only was
A coming to herself.
"And is he gone, and is he gone?"
She cried, and wept outright:
"Then I will to the water side,
And see him out of sight."
A waterman came up to her,--
"Now, young woman," said he,
"If you weep on so, you will make
Eye-water in the sea."
"Alas! they've taken my beau Ben
To sail with old Benbow;"
And her woe began to run afresh,
As if she'd said Gee woe!
Says he, "They've only taken him
To the Tender ship, you see";
"The Tender-ship," cried Sally Brown
"What a hard-ship that must be!"
"O! would I were a mermaid now,
For then I'd follow him;
But Oh!--I'm not a fish-woman,
And so I cannot swim.
"Alas! I was not born beneath
The virgin and the scales,
So I must curse my cruel stars,
And walk about in Wales."
Now Ben had sail'd to many a place
That's underneath the world;
But in two years the ship came home,
And all her sails were furl'd.
But when he call'd on Sally Brown,
To see how she went on,
He found she'd got another Ben,
Whose Christian-name was John.
"O Sally Brown, O Sally Brown,
How could you serve me so?
I've met with many a breeze before,
But never such a blow":
Then reading on his 'bacco box
He heaved a bitter sigh,
And then began to eye his pipe,
And then to pipe his eye.
And then he tried to sing "All's Well,"
But could not though he tried;
His head was turn'd, and so he chew'd
His pigtail till he died.
His death, which happen'd in his berth,
At forty-odd befell:
They went and told the sexton, and
The sexton toll'd the bell.
poem by Thomas Hood
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Zannat...heaven
Zannat* here, hell here, life here
With joy and happiness to be spent dear
Why to cry and resent for bad luck?
Why to lament and curse when simply struck?
My zannat* is at home
Stands at door and welcome
Ushers me inside and offers comfort
I have reached the bay with her support
She is not only beautiful
But kind at heart and successful
In her work she is really wonderful
With out I could have been zero or half full
I speak nothing in her praise
But gracefully acknowledge on face
"I would have been no where dear"
I live with happiness without any fear
When you are around
Joy and happiness is found
Moon and stars may shine in their place
I have nothing look at you and chase
My universe is here
I do nothing which may cause her to shed tear
Yet sometimes I loose sight of vision
That leads to some bitterness and confusion
I have no regret being ordinary man
She is no less than heavenly woman
What has she gained from me as her man?
I think and probably no answer she can
It will be too much if I say some more words
But it will be ungrateful of me if my words are not heard
I may not say plainly on her face acknowledge
She is always there in my sacred heart temple as inscribed page
She has never uttered a word in desperation
Maintained all time calm with beautiful relation
All women are same with gifted heart
Only we need to develop vision and see it as heavenly art
* Zannat…. heaven
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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The ABC
'Twas midnight in the schoolroom
And every desk was shut
When suddenly from the alphabet
Was heard a loud "Tut-Tut!"
Said A to B, "I don't like C;
His manners are a lack.
For all I ever see of C
Is a semi-circular back!"
"I disagree," said D to B,
"I've never found C so.
From where I stand he seems to be
An uncompleted O."
C was vexed, "I'm much perplexed,
You criticise my shape.
I'm made like that, to help spell Cat
And Cow and Cool and Cape."
"He's right" said E; said F, "Whoopee!"
Said G, "'Ip, 'Ip, 'ooray!"
"You're dropping me," roared H to G.
"Don't do it please I pray."
"Out of my way," LL said to K.
"I'll make poor I look ILL."
To stop this stunt J stood in front,
And presto! ILL was JILL.
"U know," said V, "that W
Is twice the age of me.
For as a Roman V is five
I'm half as young as he."
X and Y yawned sleepily,
"Look at the time!" they said.
"Let's all get off to beddy byes."
They did, then "Z-z-z."
poem by Spike Milligan
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Courage
Today I opened wide my eyes,
And stared with wonder and surprise,
To see beneath November skies
An apple blossom peer;
Upon a branch as bleak as night
It gleamed exultant on my sight,
A fairy beacon burning bright
Of hope and cheer.
"Alas!" said I, "poor foolish thing,
Have you mistaken this for Spring?
Behold, the thrush has taken wing,
And Winter's near."
Serene it seemed to lift its head:
"The Winter's wrath I do not dread,
Because I am," it proudly said,
"A Pioneer.
"Some apple blossom must be first,
With beauty's urgency to burst
Into a world for joy athirst,
And so I dare;
And I shall see what none shall see -
December skies gloom over me,
And mock them with my April glee,
And fearless fare.
"And I shall hear what none shall hear -
The hardy robin piping clear,
The Storm King gallop dark and drear
Across the sky;
And I shall know what none shall know -
The silent kisses of the snow,
The Christmas candles' silver glow,
Before I die.
"Then from your frost-gemmed window pane
One morning you will look in vain,
My smile of delicate disdain
No more to see;
But though I pass before my time,
And perish in the grale and grime,
Maybe you'll have a little rhyme
To spare for me."
poem by Robert William Service
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Speak nothing
Speak nothing
Speak nothing when find no words
There may be hidden wishes from the lords
It is for sure that you may be saved from some troubles
As uneasy calm prevails underneath the bubble
But I was restless to hear from her
She had spoken some words or uttered
I could make nothing out of it
But her face had shined a bit
She was in complete command
To tease me often but not to offer remand
It might be her style and thinking
My head spun and started sinking
She sensed anxiety and eagerness
It was visibly reflected on my face
She had specially come to say something
I owned whole crown as king
"Don't be restless" she gently whispered
I too heard impatiently and nothing offered
Just felt cold shiver in spine and expressed joy
In fact it was nice moment to enjoy
She had green signal for our union
He family had consented me for companion
She had rushed all along to convey
I was surprised about it much to dismay
Who may not want such happy moments?
When she is near you and making no movement
Each word is reflecting whole life line
We both felt its impulse and looked very fine
In life something takes place all of sudden
You may not be prepared to accept it even
I was in total disarray as she disclosed
Now we were in happy mood to be posed
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Thank you a lot
I learnt it from nature
Despite harming so much for sure
"I bow head with respect"
To forgive us all for mad act
I thank almighty for providing precious life
Along with resolve to stay with lots of strife
Always waiting for good to happen
Despite all chances of no success even
I breathe in amidst uncertain moment
Thank nature for providing nice movement
To feel its pulse of its great act
What else can be felt in return as fact?
We can only thank in terms of gesture
That is goodness of human being for sure
We can reciprocate and recognize
If everything is understood as wise
Be calm and quiet while responding
Because that directly reflects and corresponds
Your inner soul action and feeling on face
Face lines are read in all the cases
Eyes go down in recognition
"Words are not sufficient reflection"
"I wish to speak something more"
It just weaves the thoughts and really adore
Such is the meaning of "Thank you"
It must convey feeling and look true
Merely saying "thank you" may look casual
Each time it may be spoken as lines from an individual
Lots of burden is removed when conveyed
The gratitude felt from inside and relayed
The receiver may too felt its impact
To feel real worth and graciousness of act
Thank all when you feel something good is done
Not to you but your friend and heart is won
This is the only gesture that costs nothing
But in return you earn a good will wish for something
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Full dimension
The sun has regained full dimension
But has lost its power and transmission
It is on decline even though full in size
"It may be nice to feel in evening" spoke wise man
Whole of universe now be taken by surprise
The night may take over the charge and devise
Whole schedule of day and spread blanket rule
Such is heavenly bless for her to spread the lull
No one ventures freely except an owl
The hunt is on for rats to come out crawl
Death is one step away but joy for night bird
The day was slept nicely but now to pounce upon and look forward
All insects sing and make their presence known
No one can distinguish from others as of their own
It is really frightening scene and completely swayed
Human beings sleep nicely inside home and soundly stayed
Who remains awake in dark night?
Only man with broken heart fights
Thinks slight different from others
Sing in desperation and bother
Moon may not come out today
As her turn is few more days away
Night would have been different with her sway
But now little stars only can help and stay
Every thing is important here
Some one enjoys and some one constantly fear
Life is meant to be dull and light
We may differ from view point slight
Let that cycle work uninterrupted
The thoughts are to be well incepted
Day and night both are valuable and inspiring
Whole world knows about it and admiring
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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I did not cry
In that day I didn't cry
I didn't know exactly why?
People around and relatives wept
But not all tears except one I had kept
He was laid on the ground
Very quietly and peacefully found
He deserved praises from all
Now I feared all tears may fall
He was man of principles and known as down to earth
He was not at all afraid of death
He used to say" life may be over one day"
Hence never loose patience all the way
Enjoy with whatever you have
Treat all equal and nicely behave
Words may fall as if from sage's tongue
Crystal clear with echo and not a vague
"Dear son, I have a high hope in you"
Never loose a hope and always prove true
I was always upset with his advices
As if he was about to leave me on his demise
He lived his life peacefully
Not all the people might have proved it successfully
I was sure of his life mission
"Life for the people" was his dear ambition
How can I weep over his demise?
When he had taken from me a promise
I will not dropp a tear for whatever reason
As he was not for me at all as single person
I had spent most of my time with the forces
But he had never regretted with simple word of remorse
I controlled my emotions with great difficulty
As he had told me not to feel any kind of sorry
: "Life is not what people firmly believe in and lead"
He used to tell me in private "people must observe and read"
What you are doing and how are you useful for the noble cause?
He may then take deep breath and wait for my response
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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