The Benjamin Franklin of Monogamy
Reminiscing in the drizzle of Portland, I notice
the ring that's landed on your finger, a massive
insect of glitter, a chandelier shining at the end
of a long tunnel. Thirteen years ago, you hid the hurt
in your voice under a blanket and said there's two kinds
of women—those you write poems about
and those you don't. It's true. I never brought you
a bouquet of sonnets, or served you haiku in bed.
My idea of courtship was tapping Jane's Addiction
lyrics in Morse code on your window at three A.M.,
whiskey doing push-ups on my breath. But I worked
within the confines of my character, cast
as the bad boy in your life, the Magellan
of your dark side. We don't have a past so much
as a bunch of electricity and liquor, power
never put to good use. What we had together
makes it sound like a virus, as if we caught
one another like colds, and desire was merely
a symptom that could be treated with soup
and lots of sex. Gliding beside you now,
I feel like the Benjamin Franklin of monogamy,
as if I invented it, but I'm still not immune
to your waterfall scent, still haven't developed
antibodies for your smile. I don't know how long
regret existed before humans stuck a word on it.
I don't know how many paper towels it would take
to wipe up the Pacific Ocean, or why the light
of a candle being blown out travels faster
than the luminescence of one that's just been lit,
but I do know that all our huffing and puffing
into each other's ears—as if the brain was a trick
birthday candle—didn't make the silence
any easier to navigate. I'm sorry all the kisses
I scrawled on your neck were written
in disappearing ink. Sometimes I thought of you
so hard one of your legs would pop out
of my ear hole, and when I was sleeping, you'd press
your face against the porthole of my submarine.
I'm sorry this poem has taken thirteen years
to reach you. I wish that just once, instead of skidding
off the shoulder blade's precipice and joyriding
over flesh, we'd put our hands away like chocolate
to be saved for later, and deciphered the calligraphy
of each other's eyelashes, translated a paragraph
from the volumes of what couldn't be said.
poem by Jeffrey McDaniel
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Related quotes
Thirteen Years
Thirteen years of pencils and paper
Thirteen years of “I'll do it later”
Thirteen years of homework and classes
Thirteen years of fails and passes
Thirteen years have gone by so fast
And it's finally our year of last
Thirteen years of enemies and friends
Our memories that will never end
Thirteen years of growing up
Relying off of chance and luck
Changing our hair and our clothes
Making our decisions based off shows
Thirteen years preparing for our lives
For our future successful tries
For our almost guaranteed mistakes
And the friends we are sure to make
Thirteen years and now thirteen more
Traveling from shore to shore
Separating from our family and friends
Moving on and on again and again
Good Luck to us all, wherever we go
May we always have pride, and let it show
For our origins of HHS
Class of 2011 will always be the best!
poem by Cheylee Miller
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All I Can Do Now Is Write Another Poem
All I can do now is write another poem-
The poems are small,
And do not require the long hours and long years
Of the books-
Like the world as a whole
I seem to have a shorter attention span
And less patience-
A poem can be written and given a name
In minutes not years-
Though some would say a great poem
Takes the travail of years of waiting
And years of work-
But I did not say
‘All I can do now is write another great poem'
Perhaps I have in all the years of the nights never written one-
I can write the poems I write
My kinds of poems
In a fairly short time-
All I can do now
Is write another of my kind of poems-
Whether they be worth anything,
Or not.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Light Blub and the Candle
Candle: 'You think your so bright.'
Light Blub: 'I'm supposed to be that way.'
But at least I don't go out, everytime a breeze blows in.'
Candle: 'Hey I have been here longer than you.'
Light Blub: 'Edison invented me, who invented you? '
Candle: 'Don't really know for sure, but I have been around longer.'
Light Blub: 'You already said that.'
Candle: ' I get so mad, everytime someone says, they have an idea
they compare it to a light blub.'
Light Blub: 'Who else.'
Candle: ' When the power goes out, were the first things people reach
for.'
Light Blub: 'Yes, but as soon as the power comes back on, they put
you away.'
Edison: 'Listen here you two, you both serve a purpose and are
needed very much, don't you see.'
Light Blub: ' He's right, I'm sorry candle.'
Candle: 'Your forgiven, light blub, so am I.'
(4-11-07)
A Candle In The Window
Written by susan longacre, walt aldridge, and gary baker
Theres a road that I remember leading to a special place
Where the door was always open to a smiling face
Theres a picture on the mantle of a boy that looks like me
Its always the same, theres a stocking with my name
And a candle in the window, a flame against the night
Theres a candle in the window, its like gods perfect light
It dont take a lot of money to know what riches are
Just a candle in the window
Maybe its just wishful thiking I can hear the sleigh bells ring
Almost taste teh pie shes baking, its christmas eve
And theres a candle in the window, a flame against the night
The candle in the window, its like gods perfect light
It dont take a lot of money to know what riches are
Just a candle in the window and christmas in your heart
Wherever the years may take me no matter how far I go
Theres going to be a candle burning, its always nice to know
It dont take a lot of money to know what riches are
Just a candle in the window and christmas in your heart
song performed by by Alabama
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Unhappiness in a child accumulates because he sees no end to the dark tunnel. The thirteen weeks of a term might just as well be thirteen years.
quote by Graham Greene
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Ring
Lead vocal: eric stewart
Round your finger
Token of the love we give one another
Music of the future that well discover
Promises to keep more than any other
Symbolising all that we share
The ring is magic
The ring is power
Like a candle in the dark for everyone to see
The ring is madness
The ring is fire
And it burns with all the brightness of the sun
In a circle
Living in a world of perpetual motion
Turning with the tide of a restless ocean
Spinning on the wheel of your own emotion
Ridin on a wild carrousel
Youll be turning round and round
Round and round we go
Promises, promises, promises, promises
Round your finger
After all the years weve been together
Walking in the sun and stormy weather
Sharing in a moment to last forever
Memories and dreams without end
The ring is magic
The ring is power
And it finds you in the darkness of the night
The ring is madness
The ring is fire
And it guides you when youre blinded by the light
The ring is magic
The ring is power
Like a candle in the dark for all to see
The ring is madness
The ring is fire
And it burns with all the brightness of the sun
The ring is magic, magic, fire, fire
The ring is mine
song performed by by Alan Parsons Project
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Smile Is..
A smile is light and love
A smile is send from above
A smile is always in motion
Your face is the earth, your smile is the ocean
A smile is not just a smile that gets your attention
A true smile is shining with good intention
A smile comes from within
A smile compensates for a man´s sin
A smile makes it all barible
The pain fades away and everything becomes incredible
We are eternal souls of Grace
When we smile we see our true face
You might fall and get hurt one day
But when smiling all pain will fade away
When you feel hope is gone and you have nothing to turn to
One must smile and realize that the Light will always be in you
I Was Away From The Poems
I was away from the Poems
I could not hear them within myself -
There were many sounds
Many different kinds of words
And speakers and ranters and shouters
And all kinds of false music also
And even beautiful music and prayer-
But there were no poems
I could hear no poems
And within myself suddenly there came such ‘longing’
And such ‘anxiety’-
‘Where is the Poem? And where can I possibly be if there is none?
And how can I find it again? ’
And all I needed I thought was some long long long silence
Some being alone and away
Some forever waiting to hear
Some listening to the true voice
And then somehow somehow the Poems would come again –
And here here here it is now
The poem
Quiet and sure and happy and light and singing
As if it were the one music God wanted me to hear
And repeat always as if it truly were mine and yours
Dear imagined reader,
Alone.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Alone
The old man sits alone his mood not so bright
He lost his wife on a cold December night
She battled cancer with a long hard fight
He holds a candle and asks if I have a light
I sit beside him and try to make it right
Son he says, I`ve just about lost my sight
I have no future; I just lay in bed all night
And when the sun does rise, I just look away instead
I`ve worked hard all my life
I fell in love and married the sweetest wife
Now i feel as though i`ve been stabbed with a knife
He lights the candle, It was her birthday tonight
He pulls out a card and he begins to write
I love you sweetheart everythings alright
Son, can you walk with me tonight
Walk me to her grave site
So i can place this candle so she can have some light
In which she can see this card tonight
A tear falls from his cheek, son this is really hard
At that moment, we saw a shooting star
Son he said, now you can walk me to my car
poem by Joseph Whelan
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A Single Candle/Death Herself
A single flame lights her face
The face of death
A single candle holds her fears
The fears of death
Her hands clasped anrond their souls
The souls of the dead
She feeds of their screams
The screams of the dead
Her legs lay bellow her
Bellow death
Her black gown over her body
The body of death
Her chest rises and falls with her breath
The breath of death
Her cloak drawn over her long flowing jet hair
The face of death
Her eyes unmoved unfeeling
Do you see it?
Do you see the soul of death?
Do you feel it?
Her skin as white as snow as it fades into darkness
The snow of tears
Her cloths as dark as night that swallows the light
The dark we all shall see
Her eyes close as she feels their souls flow
Flow from the dead
She leaves them there to lay in darkness
She steals from the dead
A single candle lights their faces filled with her
Filled with death
They fall into the darkness of her eyes, of her heart
The darkness of death
A single candle shall stay to light their way
Their way through the dark
A single candle holds their past
The pain and trials
A single candle lights her face
The face of death
A single candle holds her fears
The fears of death herself
A single candle
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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The One For You And I
some people often wonder if they have found that
one true person that is the other part of them
the one true person that makes them complete they wonder thru their days and nights longing for the answer
the answer is right there they just don't know how to look for there answer to
have I found the other part of me
can you say with out a doubt the person you are with makes you feel whole
can you say that the other person you are with
when you are apart you feel like something of you is missing
if you can answer yes to these two simple questions
then you have found the other part of you
your soul mate
honey you are the one that makes me whole
you are the one that has defined me
you are the light within my soul
behold the stars that burn like beacons in the night
surrounds the breath of wind and fire
upon the evening of my twilight
for as I look upon the stars shall I hold you
in my heart upon the sea an endless ocean
beacons with the essence of your name
longing to be the candle I am like the wave of the endless ocean
that travels out upon the wind for I am the light of heaven
that beats within the window of my soul
you are the one that makes me whole
you are the one that has defined me
you are the light within my soul
honey you are my world, my love, my heart and my soul.
you live in my dreams for now I see you when I sleep
I see your face in my dreams and I speak your name.
my heart beats faster and a smile sweeps across my face
like sand blowing across the desert in a windstorm.
I call your name and I sleep only to hear you answer me.
I feel your breath on my neck and in my ear,
it drives me insane I just want to be with you someday as close as skin
and its as real as the real thing...someday
I plan on making the dream a reality but for now I continue to sleep....
poem by Mrs. Cynosure
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To A Friend Who Says That She Does Not Know How To Write A Poem Anymore
it is sad, when you think that you do not know
how to write a poem anymore
a simple poem as simple as you
what does it take for humanity to write one poem?
does it take that much from those who claim they know the way?
shall blood be shed to drive another point?
do not lose hope in the power of our ordinary words,
for as long as we quiver, poems are written
for as long as we lose the consciousness about our beings
the metaphors always come and build upon themselves their own meanings
take your time, breathe the air of poetry, and let the molecules
enter your lungs that long to see the light of the sun,
just be patient, keep on waiting, savor the silence, shower yourself
with the light of the moon, on another lonely night,
sleep soundly, and listen to the sound of your snores,
in your dreams, the poems write themselves.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Gentleman's Tear
At the candle light
And the dark around
He is sitting there alone
There is another light
Glowing bright from his heart
So pure and bright
Just I wished if I knew
Why he was sitting there alone.
Oh, how a cute gentleman!
At the magic nihgt
Under the candle light
What he was thinking about
That good hearted gentleman!
What a Deep! Deep! thoughts
Just If It could be seen
At the dark of the night!
What was thinking about
While he was touching the candle light
O, my God what was going on
How can be this true
At the darkness night
Under the candle light
Two drops of tears slipped from those charming eyes
I saw his face
The tears were rolling down
What could be the reason to make those eyes cry?
At the darkness nihgt
Under the candle light
Just I wanted if my wish would become true
Just I wished if I could be his light.
And wipe away the gloom
poem by Sossi Khachadourian
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The History Poems Have Not Been Written
The history poems have not been written
The poems after Milosz
The Wallace Stevens poems will never be written
I can’t come close
I have tried the Blake poems
But of course I am not near them either
I would like to the ironic intellectual poems
I might be able to do them
I could do a kind of surrealistic association mind poem a prose poem
But I don’t like that very much
The poems of Jerusalem have not been good enough
Poems of propaganda are awkward and unacceptable
The small poems that tell of my life
They are for me the chance at real poetry
And I will continue as best I can with them
The American poems I have not yet found the idiom for
I can be epigrammatic in Emerson Thoreau fashion
But not with the hard New England observing eye
Borges poems I love
And the stories of mind and literature
Making the drama of a life of a storyteller
Interest me
But I doubt I could truly do them well
Imitation can only take one so far
And through it one may lose one’s way entirely
I can really do only what I am
Not the Dickinson poems nor the Hopkins poems nor the Wordsworth poems nor the Keats poems nor the Amichai poems nor the poems of many others whose poetry I love
The Biblical poems have been tried
The poems of cosmic and scientific reflection
I could try to improve them
There are too many different kinds of poems to write
And I cannot write almost all of them
This is another poem about poems and poetry
I have written many for a long time now
Perhaps I need to go elsewhere and write in a new way
A way I have not dreamed or even remotely understood possible before.
The poems of the unknown poetry await me
I will go on but I am not sure now I know in which wa
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Physical Poetry
The physics of poetry
is best explained in a mind experiment
in the construction of this very poem.
As I write the question becomes
what is the word-next and its origins?
Now what word-next can be
is a question of probabilities;
since if I choose rhyme as my scheme
and since the words which will rhyme are finite
and not infinite
the only question then becomes
which one of these will I choose.
Now if I choose a word-next outside
rhyming
then I risk not making poetic sense
since writing a gibberish word,
or one not related to the whole,
would be judged word-next nonsense.
Now we ask who or what in the brain
is making these two decisions
is it me or is it something mysterious;
is it drawing upon the past and memory
or from an instantaneous present
or even perhaps from my future?
Or is it just random choices I make
without even understanding them?
But suppose it is something we call
consciousness which exists
in the brain-cloud of cells which
can with millions of possibilities
produce a entirely new idea
which by definition
can come to exist
like language itself
and produce something never before said;
and now is being compiled in the brain
in this very instant and brought into existence.
That is humans have with language
the ability to create sentences
which have never before existed,
spoken or written because some languages have
enough words in them to make these permutations
near infinite and hence new ideas possible therewith.
Suppose the same is true of the human mind
and human senses make possible from this
this exercise we call
the idea.
So beyond the physical aspects of the brain
there must be a non-physical aspect we call
consciousness, the spiritual, or whatever
word we choose as its name.
Now the other half of the transaction
is even more amazing:
I just made up a new idea
never been expressed before
and can talk to you about it
and given enough clues
it becomes something you understand
and you yourself can write
a poem about.
This must be trans-consciousness
which is now a double miracle
nobody understands.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Why I write
I used to feel, like a pain is in my heart.
When without saying a word, u depart
Here I m alone, remembering our memories
Had so much left to tell you my life stories.
As an alternative of you I started talking to myself
Not that good idea but still it was little relief
Not for long that idea worked, if It was too much miss of your.
Thought of writing my felling so I took a pen and paper.
Started writing stories n poems about my felling
And things that I had always thought of telling.
I feel I m near to you and with you I m talking
That's why I write. Even if my writings are not good and boring..
poem by Sushanta Rokka
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Old Flames Cant Hold A Candle To You
Downtown tonight, I saw an old friend, someone who
I use to take comfort from long before I met you
I caught a spark from his eyes of forgotten desire
With a word, or a touch, I could have rekindled that fire
Old flames cant hold a candle to you
No one can light up the night like you do
Flickering embers of love
Ive known one or two
But old flames cant hold a candle to you
Sometimes at night, I think of old lovers Ive known
I remember how holding them helped me not feel so alone
Then I feel you beside me and even their memories are gone
Like stars in the night lost in the sweet light of dawn
Old flames cant hold a candle to you
No one can light up the night like you do
Flickering embers of love
Ive known one or two
But old flames cant hold a candle to you
Old flames cant hold a candle to you
Mmmm...
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For a Lost Poem
Dedicated to the poem 'Moon Light' that was written a few years back.
For a Lost Poem
A poem written long ago –
disappeared on the face of the earth
as if it never existed – but somewhere
beyond this skyline it did;
where the moon sits, and shines its light –
this poem has been erased from history,
from where it was put into storage.
Oh poem, I feel a loss for you!
Where have you gone? Oh where have you gone?
Moon Light, once many people read,
and praised me for such delicacy,
now she is gone too.
As if death has to come with:
the darkening sky, oh ye poem –
ye selfless poem come back and
let the light shine upon you.
A poem has gone, but where?
poem by Celine Berghmans
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Candles
candle
it is used to light up
your years
candle
it is used to blow out
your years
candle
it is used to turn shadows
into animals
candle
it is used to help us see
the real from the shadows
candle
love and passion drip
through the wedding night
candle
a lump of spent energy
after all is over
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Sarah’s Special Birthday
There once was a girl named Sarah who had a special toy,
Her toy was a doll named Melodie who brought her lots of joy.
One night when Sarah fell asleep with Melodie in her hand,
Sarah started dreaming she was in a faraway land.
This land was filled with beautiful flowers, birds and butterflies,
This was the land of Krendoll where magical dolls come alive!
Then Sarah saw a shadow along side a tree,
She notices it’s Melodie as happy as can be!
Melodie is sitting on a magical unicorn, the unicorn is fair, soft and
white
The unicorn’s name is UniCandle with his horn shining bright!
Melodie jumps off of UniCandle who lets her to the ground,
And Sarah notices many, many, many presents all around.
The presents are all wrapped with big shiny bows,
They all fit in a glittering cart that has a glittering glow.
“It’s a Special Birthday for…guess who? You guessed it shouts
Melodie, Sarah all the presents are for you! ”
“The magic of your Special Dream brought you to this land,
The land of Special Birthdays is right where you now stand! ”
Then all of a sudden, UniCandle’s horn lit up a deep orange blue,
The flickering of his golden flame would make Sarah’s birthday wish
come true!
Then Melodie moved the cart with the help of the big golden handles,
So UniCandle could reach Sarah’s birthday cake and light Sarah’s
birthday candle.
Once lit Sarah’s birthday candle shined a sparkling hue, then Sarah
blew…and blew,
But the candle would not blow out, so Sarah started to shout, “What am
I to do? ”
“Close your eyes, make a wish and then count to three,
Then your birthday candle will blow out, just you wait and see! ”
So Sarah did as she was told, and started noticing sparkles of gold.
Sarah couldn’t believe what she had found.
She had received a beautiful birthstone gown, along with a beautiful
birthstone crown!
“See Sarah, your birthday wish did come true, all of these birthday gifts
are for you! ”
Then Melodie put the crown on top of Sarah’s head,
and before Sarah knew it she was back in her own bed.
Sarah awoke with Melodie in her hand,
And noticed Melodie was holding a birthday card with a golden strand.
Sarah opened it to see what it might say, it said:
“Happy Birthday Sarah, for you are 5 today! ! ”
Sarah couldn’t believe it and was happy as can be,
She had received a birthday card from UniCandle and Melodie! !
So when you go to bed at night, and see a star shining bright,
Just think of Krendoll faraway, and in your heart it will stay! ”
The End.
Copyright 1995,2005,2010 Suzae Chevalier of Chevalier Originals, Inc.
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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