The unutterable Brotherhood
My elder brother and best friend 'Lalith' who taught me to read & write
And lot of things about the fading life.
He is a good chess player, photographer and sailor as same as a rare good human being.
I am worried of him being a bachelor.
He too writes poetry and I received a letter today including this sad poem;
All the trees,
All the singing birds,
And the little fish in the pond,
Even the gentle wind
That blows through the garden,
Yes...., all of them
All, except the flowers in the garden
Understand my heart very well.........
When I interpret my dreams
They become desires
And when I interpret my desires
They become dreams again........
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A poem for Kafka
My elder brother Lalith.P
Who taught me to read and write
And lot of things about fading life.
He's a humble Encyclopedia.
We drink together as friends
When our holey pocket bit sounds
And we had a common sickness
Allergy for money but not alcohol
Villagers amazed of our Brotherhood!
He who introduced me Kafka.
'You should read his The Trial, The Castle
Amerika, The Metamorphosis and the penal Colony.
Most of his unfinished novels published Posthumously.
And He's a German speaking-Jew.'
My brother was really mad of Kafka.
I read few lines of Isaac Bashevis Singer's short story recently
'A friend of Kafka.'
And I write this brief poem underneath for him;
'I am sorry Kafka and still I couldn't touch
One of your golden books
But my inner feeling speaks
You're great among others.'
As I always respect of my Corsican brother's word!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dreams and Desires
So much has been said
So little has been said
So much remains to be said
Or does it
Which is better
To act out one's desires
Or keep them to oneself
Hidden in one's dreams
How to know
Which deisres, when acted on,
Will bring more pleasure than pain
More good than grief
How to know
Which desires should be kept
Safely tucked away
Deep inside dreams
Desires versus dreams
Dreams and/or desires
That is the challenge
To balance the two
To live in the sunshine
To limit the what ifs
To limit the regrets
To live a life one can believe in
poem by MacGregor Tagliaferro
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I Will Listen
I will listen closely to your heart
From dawn to sunset I will hear
When the stars shine I will listen
At night I shall hear your dreams
Hear the sea with its mystery
Read the poetry of glory
Spring brings lovely song birds
Wind blows through joyful trees
We listen to nature, why not the heart?
Your sweet garden is filled with flowers
In the gentle morning I will hear you
Together we paint a portrait of passion
The moon shines in your desire
When your lonely clouds cover
I will hold you beyond words
Your smile is a gift of praise
I will listen to your gentle whispers
The touch of your smooth skin
The beauty of your summer eyes
Darling, I will listen with my last breath
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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Write Me A Letter
Write me a letter
Write me a letter
Write it today
Im goin away (yes it has)
Write me a letter
Write me a letter
Write it today
Im goin away (yes it is)
Well Ive been away forever
Suicides crossin my mind
Well Ill never, never get so far behind
I said, the ways of the night are evil
Without that lord of day
But Ill never, never get so far away
I said write me
Write me
Write me
Write me
I said write me
Write me
Write me
Well theres nothin I can see
Thatd ever make me
Want to be without her
Shes good, she good to me
Said theres no way to explain
The kind of feelin that you get out in the
She good, she good to me
She good, she good to me
I love her
Write me a letter
Write me a letter
Write it today
Im goin away (yes it has)
Write me a letter
Write me a letter
Write it today
Im goin away (yes it is)
Well Ive been away forever
Suicides crossin my mind
Well Ill never, never get so far behind
Well Ive been so many places
Hidin from the wind and the rain
But you could write me a letter
For to save me from goin insane
Write me
Excite me
Write me
Write me
Write me
Write me...
song performed by by Aerosmith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Not a Poem Poem
A Not a Poem Poem
I will not write a poem
For I am not a poet
I cannot makes things rhyme
I’ve tried for quite some time
So will I write a poem?
NO!
I can’t write poetry
I’ve tried to all my life
Once, I tried to write a poem
About a husband and his wife
It sounded really silly
So I crumbled it up into a ball
That’s why I decided
That I couldn’t write poetry at all
Am I gonna write a poem?
NO!
Well, I’ll try to write a poem
But it will be really bad
It will be absolutely lousy
It will be completely horrible
It won’t be up to snuff
People will say, “Who wrote this stuff? ”
Will my poem be good?
NO!
Can I write a poem?
NO!
Will I write a poem?
NO!
Well, what do you know! ? !
I wrote a poem!
And it’s a pretty good poem, too!
I guess I can write poetry if I try
The next time I’m asked to write a poem,
Will I say no?
NO!
The Sailor's Garden
There's a soft wind singing in the idle rigging,
High tide splashing, and a young pale moon,
Lights in a window and a fiddle jigging
Over and over there the same short tune.
Oh, was it the tide along the ship's side sighing,
Or was it the sighing wind that breaths and blows,
Came like a voice across the deep crying,
Set my heart a-thinking how my garden grows?
Five years ago it was I planted roses,
Five years ago (the bush is grown a tree):
Five years ago, and once I've seen my posies,
Five years ago - and once they bloomed for me!
I was home in Spring, bloom was in May then,
Birds all were building and buds were on the tree!
When the birds were flown, oh, I was far away then;
When the rose was open I was far at sea.
I was home in autumn; winds of cold November
Shaking the leaf that shivered on the tree;
Brown leaves that sighed of sorrow to remember
Flowers that had fallen and I far at sea.
Oh, many are the roads that lead you here and yonder,
Oh, many are the ways about the world that go;
But the longest way of all's the sailor's way to wander
To the good North Country and an Isle I know.
Oh, many are the winds about the seas a-singing,
Oh, many are the songs they sing both night and noon:
But whether it be good or ill that they come bringing
The best of all's the wind that blows us home in June.
Home, home in June - and soon to be a-going;
Home, home in June - we may not long remain;
Home, home in June, just to see the garden growing,
And then fare you well till you greet us home again.
poem by Cicely Fox Smith
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My tiny alert alarm clock
I spent few pennies to buy her from the nearest garage sale.
Anyway she wake me up in time and send me to struggle to get few oxygen for my patchy lungs.
I am so sorry my dear that I have promised you to buy a can of rust remover (WD-40) for your birth day from my next salary,
That I'll do definitely.
The auspicious day will come one day and you cannot wake me up again anymore,
Then you can have the utmost rest forever!
To my loving brother and best friend 'Lalith' who taught me to read and write and lot of things about the fading life...........et cetera.,
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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early days ***** SEPTEMBER POEM
My hand is running as magic pen
when i write, September Poem
my heart is beating like a lyre
when I read each poem's line
The grasses are growing green
when I write, September Poem
hymn of birds singing with glee
Humming the written verse at tree
The soothing wind is coming from plain
when I write, September Poem
It blows softly 'round my ears
gives colors of the days
poem by Rommel Mark Dominguez Marchan
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The Poem I Did Not Write Today
THE POEM I DID NOT WRITE TODAY
The poem I did not write today
Will never be written.
No one knows what it is
Or where it is
'How it can be? ' is another question
No one can answer.
The poem I did not write today
Never went away
It is always here with me and with you
It is the same simple poem
Written over and over again
In our everyday minds.
It is the poem of love of life
The poem of happiness
The poem of belief in God
And in the goodness in the world to come
It is the poem which believes too that poetry will help save the world.
It is the good poem
The happy poem
The poem I did not write today
Is the poem my life is writing now and always
And with you it says
‘What a miracle it is that we are here
reading and writing
and loving life as we do’.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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A Message Here For All You Poets
The love poet writes of lovely things like true love and flowers in bloom
And the roses in the poet's garden scent of a sweet perfume
And the gentle hearted applaud him saying what a marvellous poet
He surely is a child of God and one worthy of note.
The love poet writes of love of God and the God fearing say
He's a fine poet one of the best love and respect to God he pay
He hear no evil speak no evil only write of God and love
And there's a place reserved for him in God's Kingdom up above.
The social issues poet writes of the poor and few his verses read
They say he writes such morbid stuff sob stories we do not need
He keeps highlighting the downtrodden and those in poverty
He ought to put more trust in God and in Humanity.
A message here for all you poets don't write of the downtrod
But write of affairs of your heart and write of your love of God
And some will say how great you are and your praises they will sing
And they will pay respect to you and call you their Poetic Queen or King.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Poetry
Poetry.......
Poetry defines me
Poetry.......
A place where you be you and I'll be me.
Poetry.......
We are best friends for eternity.
My Poetry.......
Is the daughter of my emotion,
There I've said it, no need to interpret the connection.
Poetry.......
Where my pen and paper are sealed with a kiss,
So easy to write for my mind is a bliss.
Poetry.......
Poetry has multiple meanings,
An indescribable feeling when I realize others understand them.
My Poetry.......
It just comes natural to me.
My Poetry.......
Is out there, , , , , away from exile,
And style of writing is very versatile.
Poetry.......Poetry.......
P oetry.......
It speaks out to me.
poem by Anita Khelawan
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Write Me
Aerosmith
Write Me
Well I've been away forever, suicide's crossin' my mind,
But I'll never never never never never get so far behind.
I said, the ways of the night are evil with eyes that love the day,
but I'll never never never never never get so far away.
I said write me, write me, write me.
I said write me, write me, write me.
Well there's nothin' I can see that'd ever make
me want to be without her she's good, she's good to me.
Said there's no way to explain the kind of feeling
that you get out in the rain she's good, she's good to me.
See this emptiness inside it makes me scream
it make me crawl out of my high, she's good, she's good to me.
I love her.
Write me a letter, write me a letter, write it today, I'm goin' away.
Well I've been away forever, suicide's crossin' my mind,
But I'll never never never never never get so far behind.
Well I've been so many places hidin' from the wind and the rain,
But you could write me a letter for to save me from a goin' insane.
I said write me, write, write, write me.
Write me, write, write, write me.
Write me, write, write, write.
I said write me, write, write, write me.
Write me, write, write, write me.
Don't write me baby.
song performed by by Aerosmith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Desires Of The Heart
My desires run deeper than the deep blue,
You'll find my desires are so deep and true,
And my desires are always true,
I, a mermaid, swimming in waters blue,
Swimming for desires a garden rose could lose,
No frost or snow shall hit my bloom,
No frost or snow to let my heart forget you.
This flower is blooming in a garden dark,
A garden that will lead straight to your heart,
No prick shall harm the fingers that I touch,
Hands that touch this delicate rose,
As I spread my leaves in the soft moonlight,
The garden of dark waiting for this flower to grow and bloom,
Waiting for your touch, so that in pleasure I shall grow.
poem by Paula Glynn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I was not looking for my dreams to interpret my life, but rather for my life to interpret my dreams.
quote by Susan Sontag
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Does Poetry Mean To Me
What does poetry mean to me
What do I get from a poem
Good poetry is a rhapsody
That makes my spirit roam
What does poetry mean to me
What do I get from an ode
Good poetry is the world to me
It is the mother lode
What does poetry mean to me
What do I get from a verse
Good poetry makes my soul soar free
And lifts the darkest curse
What does poetry mean to me
A sorry sonofabitch
Good poetry grabs me by the balls
And makes my life seem rich
What does poetry mean to me
An ageing U3Aer
Good poetry takes me back to youth
To when I was a player
What does poetry mean to me
A frustrated would-be bard
Good poetry trips not off my pen
It’s far too blooming hard
When You Define A Thing
when you define
a thing, you limit it,
it is like fencing
your garden
the garden becomes
a set of exclusive
flowers, and anything
not like it becomes
a weed, and anything
that moves
becomes a pest
it is not that you
do not define, we do
it sometimes
only to understand
the limits of
understanding,
but we must be open
to other possibilities
of a garden,
a garden of stones
a garden of sand
of mud, of water
a fountain, a garden
of winds, of clouds
a garden of memories
like a poem
for instance, a garden
of words,
words with arms open
to the magic
of further creation
words still trying
to define themselves
in the garden
of the unknown
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry Is Like A Beautiful Work Of Art
A poem has no write or
wrong,
How to write your poem
is up to you,
Visualize a perfect poem
That readers will love,
Adjust a poem as much as
you want,
Remember a poem is like
art,
You write it with meaning
and passion,
Add as much as your heart
desires,
Short or long it does not
matter,
Add a picture with your
poem,
Add a quote or a verse,
it is a poet's decision,
Always be proud of your poem,
Let the words flow when you
write,
A poem expresses a feeling,
thought and emotion,
Add a frame and hang it up
on a wall,
share your talents with the
world,
Poetry is like a beautiful
work of art.
poem by Derek James
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In the spring garden
In the spring garden
~
In the spring garden
Birds sing and chatter
While flowers raise their heads
To greet the morning sun
A garden filled with colour bright
A garden which now fills with life
The bee and the butterfly hover
From flower to flower gathering nectar
Seeding the flowers blossom
Throughout the spring garden
The dew glistens upon the grass
While the wind gently rolls in the tree
All the world slowly waking
Soon to this bounty of great beauty
Every hue from natures pallet
Is here free for all to see
In the spring garden
poem by Matthew Holloway
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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
poem by Ravi Sathasivam
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Chima
My poetry is about love and,
My mind is about the muse of imagination!
And like the joy of the singing birds in the air,
But your sorrow will fly away so soon like the wind.
From the views of a bird i became a bard,
And from the views of the public i became a teacher;
But your love is why i am here today,
And like the muse of joy in the land of peace.
Chima my friend,
The mysteries around you do have masks on them! !
But i am here today to love you for who you are;
Because, the calendar of my life is now hanging up in your room!
No mere works of academic criticism,
For the spirits taught me how to read and write! !
And now my will is like your will in the land of peace,
But purported to have come from the realms!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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