December letters:
no response greets the New Year,
but embers' fetters.
haiku by Jonathan Robin (10 January 1993)
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Azra
(A heartiest tribute of Sarwar Sultan to his deceased wife who a year after also passed away; the poem has been translated by Muhammad Shanazar)
It was December, she and I,
December has come again,
Who knows how many December
Will come and depart,
She can not come back
And I can not die yet.
It was December when I took her
On the fog-wrapped rocks,
It was December when I took her
On the bank of a blue lake,
It was December when I took her
On the high mountains
Amid the tall palm trees,
And it was December when I took her
On the bank of a rushing river.
Whatever the season is,
She always accompanies me,
I know not where to fragrance
Of her soared,
All of sudden on one day,
She went to where she had hailed from,
She can not come back,
And I can not die yet,
Now December becomes a wound
And spring imparts to it a tormenting pain.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Burning Embers
Fly through the glass of a window pane
fall through the sky feeling the rain
Walk on broken glass your tell-tale heart
Look through the bars of a dirty jail cell
soar to heaven dive to hell
Listen to your tell-tale heart
Setting fires in the ghost twilight
we see you dress we bolt with fright
You see an apparition disappear
Jump to the table, jump up the stairs
stand on the rooftop, looking out through the air
Walk on broken glass your tell-tale heart
Lenore, am I dreaming
How can death keep us apart, mmmm..
Lenore, I see you burning
And I'd walk on burning embers
walk on burning embers
Walk on burning embers your tell-tale heart
Walk on burning embers
walk on burning embers
Walk on burning embers your tell-tale heart
Walk on burning embers
walk on burning embers
Walk on burning embers your tell-tale heart
Heart
heart
Heart
heart
Walk on burning embers
walk on burning embers
Walk on burning embers your tell-tale heart
your tell-tale heart
Walk on burning embers
walk on burning embers
Walk on burning embers your tell-tale heart
Walk on burning embers
walk on burning embers
Walk on burning embers your tell-tale heart
Walk on burning embers
walk on burning embers
Walk on burning embers your tell-tale heart
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I receive about 10,000 letters a year from readers, and in the first year after a book is published, perhaps 5,000 letters will deal specifically with that piece of work.
quote by Dean Koontz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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December
Where is the december of mine, with an amazing atmosphere and slender of joy....
To over crowed business places
With smile on everyone faces! ! !
December where are you! ! !
With the coldness due to winter,
Down to the tropic in the caribbean..
With crazy christmas trees and declaration and fiery lights.....
December you to far.
With finger licking turkey and hams to
Exchange of gifts,
Amazing families reunions.........
Cookies and milk awaits santa.
Because I was not naughty for the year.
Everyone is looking farward for that spcial month...
December............
I can feel the warmth of joy and love in the air....
Its a season everyone love.
December where are you..........
poem by Donavan Avril
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Wild May
Aleta mentions in her tender letters,
Among a chain of quaint and touching things,
That you are feeble, weighted down with fetters,
And given to strange deeds and mutterings.
No longer without trace or thought of fear,
Do you leap to and ride the rebel roan;
But have become the victim of grim care,
With three brown beauties to support alone.
But none the less will you be in my mind,
Wild May that cantered by the risky ways,
With showy head-cloth flirting in the wind,
From market in the glad December days;
Wild May of whom even other girls could rave
Before sex tamed your spirit, made you slave.
poem by Claude McKay
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Love Letters
She held a pack of love letters tied with ribbons and bows.
these were the love letters that she would never show.
Every one of them was dated first to last
These were the letters that held a life past.
Times may pass and things may change
But memories stay the same.
The writing of love letters had slowly disappeared
But she held on to them from year to year.
She sat with the letters in her lap.
As the tears rolled down her eyes
He had said he would be with her
Till the day he died
And fifty years later
He met his maker
And was carried to the cemetery
by the undertaker.
The letters had been written
with tenderness and love
Proclaiming every thing
Even the stars above.
He said life was meaningless if with her
His life he could not share.
And losing her was something
he could not bear.
Now that he was gone and she
Was left all alone.
The house didn’t seem
like much of a home.
She knew her children would not understand
Why she held the love letters in her hand.
These were the memories that kept her alive
And on that she couldn’t deny.
But her mind and body was fading fast
And she knew she could not last.
So to her children she bequeathed
The letters that she cherished all her life
For that was her husband, and she was his wife.
These are the love letters that your father
Wrote to me when we were young and carefree.
He told me of all that life had to offer.
And of all the love he had for me
And that he wanted to raise a family.
When you read his letters you will know
Why I loved this man so.
And now it’s time for me to go.
Because your father awaits me on the other side
And we’ll be together for all of time
poem by Louis Rams
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December Comment
I was born in December,
too cold to remember.
Every year I'm reminded
of being born in December.
Coming from the warmth of my mother
and coming from another
time and place of beauty
where I knew something other
than cold.
I am a lover of warmth and sun
but that's not how I'd begun
my life on this cold place.
And when my blankets were undone
I'd shiver.
Will I leave in December
so I can remember
the cold that welcomed me
on my first December?
I wonder?
poem by Edwina Reizer
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If We Make It Through December
If we make it through December
Everything's gonna be all right I know
It's the coldest time of winter
And I shiver when I see the falling snow
If we make it through December
Got plans to be in a warmer town
Come summer time
Maybe even California
If we make it through December
We'll be fine
Got laid off down at the factory
And their timing's not the greatest
In the world
Heaven knows I've been working hard
Wanted Christmas to be right
For daddy's girl
I don't mean to hate December
It's meant to be the happy time of year
And my little girl don't understand
Why daddy can't afford no Christmas here
song performed by by Alan Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wishful Thinking.
.
The old year’s coming to its end.
Few will be sad to see it go.
We greet the New Year as a friend
We live in hope but cannot know.
If the New Year will prove to be.
A year in which we can achieve.
Our cherished dreams successfully.
Though some have doubts most can believe.
Despite their past experience
of disappointments they have known
They set aside their common sense
and are sustained by faith alone.
It seems we all prefer to see.
The New Year optimistically.
Saturday,26 December 2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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My December
My December
this is my december
this is my time of the year
this is my december
this is all so clear
this is my december
this is my snow covered home
this is my december
this is me alone
and i
just wish that i didnt feel
like there was something i missed
and i
take back all the things i said
to make you feel like that
and i
just wish that i didnt feel
like there was something i missed
and i
take back all the things i said to you
and i give it all away
just to have somewhere to go to
give it all away
to have someone to come home to
this is my december
these are my snow covered dreams
this is me pretending
this is all i need
and i
just wish that i didnt feel
like there was something i missed
and i
take back all the things i said
to make you feel like that
and i
just wish that i didnt feel
like there was something i missed
and i
take back all the things i said to you
and i give it all away
just to have somewhere to go to
give it all away
to have someone to come home to
this is my december
this is my time of the year
this is my december
this is all so clear
and i give it all away
just to have somewhere to go to
give it all away
to have someone to come home to
song performed by by Linkin Park from One Step Closer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spend and Grieve
Another year ended
Over and done,
What have we left of it
Now that it’s gone
- What did we lend it?
Only the tears
Of the last year’s spending,
Some of the fears
A beginning, some endings;
Raking our friends
By the sword and the pen with
No wound mending.
How at the fall of the next year, may
We garner our grievings;
Once we have plundered and purged at will
Our last year’s leavings?
Only in time
May we learn our writ;
We spend and grieve
Befriend and leave –
So be it!
25 December 1984
poem by David Lewis Paget
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Another Year Has Gone By
So many 25th's of December
Just as many 4th of July's
And we're still holding it together
It only comes down to you and I
I know you can still remember
Things we said right from the start
When we said that this could be special
I'm keeping those words deep down in my heart
Another year has gone by
And I'm still the one by your side
After everything that's gone by
There's still no one saying goodbye
Though another year has gone by
I never been much for occasions
You never let another birthday go by
Without announcing how much you love me
But the truth was always there
Right there in your eyes
And we're still holding hands when we're walking
Acting like we've only just met
But how can that be - when there's so much history
I guess that's how true lovers can get
Another year has gone by
And I'm still the one by your side
After everything that's gone by
There's still no one saying goodbye
Though another year has gone by
Another year has gone by
And I'm still the one by your side
After everything that's gone by
There's still no one saying goodbye
Though another year has gone by
song performed by by Celine Dion from These Are Special Times
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tempora Mutantur
Letters, letters, letters, letters!
Some that please and some that bore,
Some that threaten prison fetters
(Metaphorically, fetters
Such as bind insolvent debtors) -
Invitations by the score.
One from COGSON, WILES, and RAILER,
My attorneys, off the Strand;
One from COPPERBLOCK, my tailor -
My unreasonable tailor -
One in FLAGG'S disgusting hand.
One from EPHRAIM and MOSES,
Wanting coin without a doubt,
I should like to pull their noses -
Their uncompromising noses;
One from ALICE with the roses -
Ah, I know what that's about!
Time was when I waited, waited
For the missives that she wrote,
Humble postmen execrated -
Loudly, deeply execrated -
When I heard I wasn't fated
To be gladdened with a note!
Time was when I'd not have bartered
Of her little pen a dip
For a peerage duly gartered -
For a peerage starred and gartered -
With a palace-office chartered,
Or a Secretaryship.
But the time for that is over,
And I wish we'd never met.
I'm afraid I've proved a rover -
I'm afraid a heartless rover -
Quarters in a place like Dover
Tend to make a man forget.
Bills for carriages and horses,
Bills for wine and light cigar,
Matters that concern the Forces -
News that may affect the Forces -
News affecting my resources,
Much more interesting are!
And the tiny little paper,
With the words that seem to run
From her little fingers taper
(They are very small and taper),
By the tailor and the draper
Are in interest outdone.
And unopened it's remaining!
I can read her gentle hope -
Her entreaties, uncomplaining
(She was always uncomplaining),
Her devotion never waning -
Through the little envelope!
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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Dying Embers
It’s the end of a fiery passion
The birth of dying embers
Our hearts know this can mean only one thing
The goodbye of dear friends
It’s the new found silence we share
The birth of dying embers
We drift apart helplessly
The inevitability of the end
It’s the many secrets and lies
The birth of dying embers
Buried and forgotten are trust and truth
The destruction of life’s vital bond
It’s the days we never touched
The birth of dying embers
Gone forever are the intense pleasures of light fingers on rose and velvet skin
The goodness of friendship forever lost
It’s the distance and space between us
The birth of dying embers
Our souls grow weak without each other, yet destiny is happily gratified
The goodbye of dear friends
The embers die out forever
Who can make them glow again?
poem by Rafael Yaw Kumi
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Letters Never Sent
(carly simon/jacob brackman)
In a suitcase tied with string
On the highest shelf
In the closet down the hall
Hidden from myself
Fits of madness, pools of grief
Fevers of desire
How peculiar these remain
Slavaged from the fire
For some I crumpled some I burned
Some I tore to shreds
Lifetimes later, here they are
Ones I saved instead
Letters never sent to you
Letters never sent
Never reached their destination
Mostly born of pain
Resurfaced with the purpose of
A trip down memory lane
Broken hearted, breaking hearts
All the way it went
Evidence of what I saw
My experiments
Lifes a riddle, lifes a dream
Lifes an accident
Now Im gonna set them free
Letters never sent
Letters never sent to you
Letters never sent
Once upon a time taboo
Letters never sent
Letters never sent to you
Letters never sent
Incongruous, and overdue
Letters never sent
song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Alphabet
The letters of the Jews as strict as flames
Or little terrible flowers lean
Stubbornly upwards through the perfect ages,
Singing through solid stone the sacred names.
The letters of the Jews are black and clean
And lie in chain-line over Christian pages.
The chosen letters bristle like barbed wire
That hedge the flesh of man,
Twisting and tightening the book that warns.
These words, this burning bush, this flickering pyre
Unsacrifices the bled son of man
Yet plaits his crown of thorns.
Where go the tipsy idols of the Roman
Past synagogues of patient time,
Where go the sisters of the Gothic rose,
Where go the blue eyes of the Polish women
Past the almost natural crime,
Past the still speaking embers of ghettos,
There rise the tinder flowers of the Jews.
The letters of the Jews are dancing knives
That carve the heart of darkness seven ways.
These are the letters that all men refuse
And will refuse until the king arrives
And will refuse until the death of time
And all is rolled back in the book of days.
poem by Karl Shapiro
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Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom.
quote by Viktor E. Frankl
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Don't Ever Come, O December
Look December
Don't ever come now!
Look, December
Deserts unnumbered have expanded in me.
All my rivers
Are silted with the sands of loneliness.
Now only I
And the weight of my loneliness
Remain together.
Look, December
In your frozen nights
In your sleepless nights
Who will knit dreamlike sweaters?
Who will pick snowflakes falling in the soul?
Look, December
Don't ever come now!
And even if you do come
Don't go to the abodes of the sun
Wearing the snows of your woes.
Don't ever go to my loved ones!
Look, December
Don't ever come now!
(Translated from the original Urdu into English by Dr. Satyapal Anand)
poem by Naseer Ahmed Nasir
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Fetters of gold are still fetters, and silken cords pinch.
Red Letters
Red letters
Cut deep
Soothe the pain inside.
Red letters
Bold and loud
Scream silently.
Red letters
Secret and hidden
But a cry for help.
Red letters -
A way to deal with this pain.
As I cut these words into my skin
I remember seeing red words somewhere before
Then it hits me like a lightning bolt -
Words of Jesus are printed in red. Words of Christ in red.
Red letters
Real truth, piercing deep
Soothes my pain inside.
Red letters
Your passion, Your blood
Covers me.
Red letters
Hope and life
I cry, 'Fill me! '
Red letters -
You were pierced and bloody
So I wouldn't have to be.
'What can wash away my sin?
Nothing but the blood of Jesus!
What can make me whole again?
Nothing but the blood of Jesus!
Oh! precious is the flow that makes me white as snow!
No other fount I know -
Nothing but the blood of Jesus! '
Red letters... Nothing but the blood -
Red letters... Nothing but the blood of Jesus!
poem by Zoe MacRae
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