En.Citatepedia^®.ro

For Miklós Radnóti

Your verse is so magical,
Written so well,
I still adore its music
And drink from its well.
After the war your town
Gave my grammar school
The honour of your name,
Yet history is cruel
It ignored your fame.
Your woman waited years
For your return in vain
And you dreamt she stood
At the russet hedge again.
And like in the old days,
You wished to marvel
On her leg above the ankle
At the delicate blue vein.
My teacher told me
That buried underground
Your notebook of poems
In a mass grave was found.
The fascists who shot you
At war’s end in the head
Did not know that you were
The greatest living poet
In your beloved land.
Had they known it
Oh, they would have been glad
To hang you instead.

poem by Paul Hartal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On Hearing One Reciting Verses Of Callanan

He recited Gougane Barra and the outlaw of Lough Lene
And my thoughts went back the long gone years to my school going days again
When our teacher recited those verses to us from the pen of a Cork born bardic man
The one whose bones rest in distant Portugal Jeremiah Joseph Callanan.

The poems of J J Callanan will live forever more
And are recited far distant from green old Erin's shore
A true poet of the people though he died poor and young
And he was one of genius and his songs are still sung.

The poet and hedge school teacher his poems known far and wide
And greatness is a thing of him that can never be denied
He recited his verses in village and in town
And even in his too brief life Callanan knew renown.

He recited Gougane Barra and it took me far away
To the school house room in Millstreet happy memories with us stay
When our teacher recited the poems of Callanan 'he was showing his years in gray'
Back in the nineteen fifties and that's going back many a day.

poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Best School of All

It's good to see the school we knew,
the land of youth and dream.
To greet again the rule we knew,
before we took the stream.
Though long we've missed the sight of her,
Out hearts may not forget:
We've lost the old delight of her,
We keep her honour yet.

Chorus:
We'll honour yet the school we knew
The best school of all
We'll honour yet the rule we knew
Till the last bell call
For working days or holidays
And glad or melancholy days
They were great days and jolly days
At the best school of all

The stars and sounding vanities
That half the crowd bewitch.
What are they but inanities
To him that treads the pitch?
And where's the welth I'm wondering,
Could buy the cheers that roll
When the last charge goes thundering
Towards the twilight goal?

Then men that tanned the hide of us,
Our daily foes and friends,
They shall not lose their pride of us,
However the journey ends.
Their voice to us who sing of it,
No more its message bears,
But the round world shall ring of it,
And all we are be theirs.

To speak of fame a venture is,
There's little here can bide,
But we may face the centuries,
And dare the deepending tide;
for though the dust that's part of us,
To dust again be gone,
Yet here shall beat the heart of us,
The school we handed on!

We'll honour yet the school we knew
The best school of all
We'll honour yet the rule we knew
Till the last bell call
For working days or holidays
And glad or melancholy days
They were great days and jolly days
At the best school of all

poem by Sir Henry Newbolt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Li Po And Sappho

Li Po knew
He was the greatest
Living poet in China;
He liked to drink
And fondly gaze at the moon.

A million poems
And haikus later,
No one greater since
Has arrived.

I hope,
In the mystical universe,
He gets to meet Sappho
Who is the greatest poet
That has ever been,
Even though most of her poems
Have been cruelly destroyed by men
Who thought kisses
Shouldn’t be that gentle.

poem by Uriah Hamilton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Nasrudin's donkeys

1
it’s graduation day
and the teacher gives awards
to each:
a book to one
a staff to another
silk or precious stones;
and to Nasrudin
the teacher
gives a donkey

2
It is some years
and the teacher
hears of Nasrudin’s fame
and comes to visit
the House of Prayer Nasrudin oversees
and to pay homage to the Saint
buried just beside

3
O Nasrudin,
says the teacher -
how great your fame
and vast your following
Tell me, which Eminent Saint
is buried in the mound
beside the House of Prayer
you oversee?

O Master,
says Nasrudin
It’s the donkey
you gave me
It died just 4 years after
and I buried him here
And everyone wants a Saint
so I have not disabused people
of their faith

4
The teacher nods with a smile
and Nasrudin continues:
But tell me Master –
which Eminent Saint is buried in the mound
beside the House of Prayer
you oversee?

Ah, Nasrudin, says the teacher
though people believe it’s a Saint
it’s really your dead donkey’s mother

poem by Raj Arumugam
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Blue Skinned Beast

I can fly you to your loved ones but I can promise no return
To a shell-shocked God forsaken where their craters still they burn
Have a drink on me
Have a drink on me
Still the worst is over that I hope you understand
The youre one more hurdle over our protector of the land
Have a drink on me
I put it down to the company
Three cheers to the blue skinned beast hip hip !
To the blue skinned beast hip hip !
Three cheers to the blue skinned beast hip hip hip hip !
To the blue skinned beast hip hip !
Here you have this medal you can even melt it down
Or frame it in the living room every time you turn around
Have a drink on me
Have a drink on me
I heard you shout for yesterday, but I was sleeping on the job
And I dreamt of fighters miles away whose lives I had to rob
Have a drink on me
I put it down to the company
Three cheers to the blue skinned beast hip hip !
To the blue skinned beast hip hip !
Three cheers to the blue skinned beast hip hip hip hip !
To the blue skinned beast hip hip !
Here you have this medal you can even melt it down
Or frame it in the living room every time you turn around
I can fly your loved ones to you
With guarantee of no return
And if john waynes dummys bounce off
Dont look shocked when it comes your turn
Have a drink on me
I put it down to company
Three cheers to the blue skinned beast hip hip !
To the blue skinned beast hip hip !
Three cheers to the blue skinned beast hip hip hip hip !
To the blue skinned beast hip hip !
Hip hip !
Hip hip !
Hip hip hip hip !
Hip hip !
Three cheers to the blue skinned beast hip hip !
To the blue skinned beast hip hip !
Hip hip hip hip !
Hip hip !
Three cheers to the blue skinned beast hip hip !
To the blue skinned beast hip hip !
Three cheers to the blue skinned beast hip hip hip hip !
To the blue skinned beast hip hip !

song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Leonardo

The one on portrait hanging on the wall
Perhaps the best that history can recall
He lived and worked five hundred years ago
And still the legend of Leonardo grow.

A Poet, a Scientist and an Engineer
An Inventor and an Artist without peer
From near poverty to fame at a time
When to be poor was looked on as a crime.

Leonardo the greatest son of Italy
Opened the gate to modern technology
No stranger to the book of history
In five hundred years no greater one than he.

Five centuries back he said that man would fly
And the legend live his fame will never die
His dusty portrait in old frame hang on wall
Perhaps the best that history can recall.

poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Good Girl

[verse 1]
You walk a narrow road
I know you face it on your own
But you've got the will inside
I can see it in your eyes
You're not about mini skirts
And silly reasons just to flirt
'Cause you've got heaven on your side
And that's how you live your life
[chorus]
Hang on, good girl, (you're not the only one)
Be strong, good girl, )when the pressure comes)
When they try to bring you down
You'll be glad you stood your ground
So just hang on
[verse 2]
You've seen a lot of things
You're the keeper of many dreams
You've got everything it takes
To stay strong, carry on
You're sick of childish games
You speak the truth and you say it straight
And when you dreams have been delayed
You've got the strength to wait
So keep on waiting
[chorus]
Hang on, good girl, (you're not the only one)
Be strong, good girl, )when the pressure comes)
When they try to bring you down
You'll be glad you stood your ground
So just hang on
[bridge]
You're not sugar and spice and everything nice
You've got character and you paid the price
You're not after self-perfection
You're living out your redemption
What sets you apart from everyone else
Is that you know your Saviour and you know Him well
What makes you different from all the rest
Is that you won't let it get to you
[chorus]
Hang on, good girl, (you're not the only one)
Be strong, good girl, )when the pressure comes)
When they try to bring you down
You'll be glad you stood your ground
So just hang on

song performed by by ZoeGirl
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Written Somewhere (Mini Biography)

My friends are strangers
My family is the world
At one time, I sought fame
Everyone to know my name
Praise for what I did
But as the years came around
No fame there was to be found
So I turned my back on it all
Feeling crushed and insignificantly small

Years folded into one another
And soon became a score
Still I had no wish to return
To find the fame that I so yearned
But fate had a hand for me to play
It said you still had something more to say
An old school friend from a different time
Was sent one day when I was down
To reconnect and turn my life around

At first it did not dawn on me
That our meeting was meant to be
And my life was to change so dramatically
We talked through emails
About the lives, we had both lead
Suzanne said she had a friend and told me her name
That I should read her poems online
That friend, Melvina Germain, would also become a friend of mine
And set me on a return road of an earlier time

I joined the site where her poems were
And in a few short months, I was overwhelmed
I had something I had always dreamed for
I had a family of the world
The fame I so dearly sought to find
Where friends came along and read the work of mine
It made my heart pump faster and put zest into my life again
I would never want for anything
I had all the friends and fame
I ever wanted and more

16 April 2007

poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On Reading Poems And Songs Of Burns

The poems and songs of Robert Burns are still living
And though his body died more than two hundred years ago
His spirit and his soul will live forever
You will find them where the Afton Waters flow.

He was the pride of Scotland Robert Burns
The greatest of his clan and of his race
And along with Walter Scott he ranks as his Country's greatest
And in literature he commands the highest place.

'For Auld Lang Syne' will surely live forever
As Robert Burns gift to the New Year
When you attend a new year celebration
More likely than not Lang Syne you will hear.

His great poems To a Mouse and To a Mountain Daisy
His haunting ballad to his Red Red Rose
The great poet living in his songs and verses
And the legend that grew with him grows and grows.

You see the music in the poems of Burns
He was more than a peasant man of rhyme
He was a humanitarian and a great poet
The lesser bards have faded out in time.

He died in poverty but he is famous
His songs and verses known and sung World-wide
The fame of Burns will live on forever
He brought to Scotland patriotic pride.

From Alloway In Ayrshire Robert Burns
His legacy the marvellous gift of song
The Scottish his birthday and birthplace honour
But to all peoples his verses belong.

poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Twenty Days

Twenty days are barely gone,
I was merry all the day.
Folly was my butt of scorn.
Now the fool myself I play.

Wit and learning ruled my head,
Logic and economy.
All the books I ever read
Taught me only vanity.

Most of all it moved my mirth
Womankind the world should rule.
Man, the lord of all the Earth!
He, forsooth, a woman's tool!

Cherry lip and glancing eye!
What were rosy cheeks to me?
Beauty's truth was but a lie--
Witness tomes of history!

Twenty days had barely run.
Twenty years they well might be.
All my wisdom was undone,
Reason bade good--night to me.

Her hair was of the red red gold,
Her blue eyes looked me through and through.
She was twenty--three years old,
I was twenty years and two.

Fortune, fame, I freely give,
Honour's self, if so she please,
Sweetly in her smile to live
Other twenty days like these.

poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Every Living Thing Barring Mother Nature

They may be very famous people and leave their footprints in the sands of time
And their legends may live on for centuries and even outlive the poet's rhyme
But their fame won't live on forever though them the masses celebrate
For every living thing barring Mother Nature has on it set a time date.

Every living thing barring Mother Nature will eventually go into decay
And even from history's pages be lost and forgotten one day
Suppose that's what makes all things equal and whether we are buried or burn
Mother Nature is there to receive us and to her bosom we'll return.

All of my best years behind me and I've lived most of my time span
Less than two years short of sixty soon I will be an old man
Every day nearer the last day that is the end for us all
To us then it will not matter if the living our names won't recall.

Every living thing barring Mother Nature must bow to old father time
And though the achievements of some great people may outlive the great poet's rhyme
Their fame has on it a time date it has often been said before
That only herself Mother Nature will live on forever more.

poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Poems Written About Poetry

The poems written about Poetry
Seemed to be self- indulgent and self- serving,
The Poet worshipping what he does
And making himself Holy-

But in some other way
They were simply Explorations
Efforts at understanding the Art
And improving the Music-

They were in their own quiet way small adventures
And gifts to other would- be- poets
And lovers of intense lines-

The poems written about the poetry
Were small additions to a long history
Poems about poems-

One kind of poem
In a world
Where there is no end to more and many.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On Passing Cromwell Street

In Melbourne streets named in his honour though he does not warrant such fame
For he lived a life of dishonour yet he never felt any shame
For his crimes against the poor of Ireland the winners write the history they say
And historians are too kind to Cromwell the one who did awful things in his day.

He evicted the poor of rural Ireland those who only knew of poverty
And put them on the hard road to Connacht the victims of crimes against humanity
His army were thugs and not soldiers for they did things that soldiers ought not do
The winners always write the history though their version of history is often not true.

In Cromwell's time the winners wrote the history and the winners still write the history today
But for any crimes against humanity the winners too should be made to pay
But Cromwell and his army honoured for their crimes in Ireland against the poor defenceless poor
'Tis sad to think that one so unworthy of a place in history is secure.

To hell or to Connacht his catch cry he forced thousands of poor families on the road
To people who were penniless and innocent not one scrap of mercy he showed
Thousands of them died in the harsh Irish Winter when homelessness on them took it's toll
Because they were poor they were punished though their life circumstances beyond their control.

I think of the untruths of history each time I drive by Cromwell street
The history written by winners their history of lies and deceit
I say to myself they honour a tyrant and I struggle for to understand
Why they name a street after somebody who oppressed the poor of Ireland.

Andrew Marvell in verse glorified Cromwell but he was one who would not know
What Cromwell and his army got up to in Ireland in those bleak times centuries ago
But he only believed what they told him and they told him what he wanted to hear
History often written by unworthy people those who rule by terror and fear.

In Melbourne streets named in his honour his poor victims long forgotten and gone
Into the World of the forgotten but Cromwell's fame is living on
And the lessons we should have learned from history did not lead to a fair go for all
And the winners only write the story though the real truth they never recall.

poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bridging The Gap

[Nas talking]
"The light is there."
[Intro: Olu Dara singing]
See I come from Mississippi
I was young and runnin' wild
Ended up in New York City, where I had my first child
I named the boy Nasir, all the boys call him Nas
I told him as a youngster, he'll be the greatest man alive
[Verse 1: Nas]
Let's go!... Hey-Hey-Hey-Hey --
Tribrary of these rap skits, styles I mastered
Many brothers snatched it up and tried to match it
But I'm still number one, everyday real
Speak what I want, I don't care what y'all feel
'Cause I'm my own master, my Pop told me be your own boss
Keep integrity at every cost, and his home was Natchez Mississippi
Did it like Miles and Dizzy, now we gettin' busy
Bridging The Gap from the blues, to jazz, to rap
The history of music on this track
Born in the game, discovered my father's music
Like Prince searchin' through boxes of Purple Rain
But my Minneapolis was The Bridge, home of the Superkids
Some are well-known, some doin' bids
I mighta ended up on the wrong side of the tracks
If Pops wouldn't've pulled me back an said yo
[Olu Dara singing]
Greatest man alive (Nas: Yeah, turn it up!)
Gre-Gre-Gre-Gre-Greatest man alive!
[Verse 2: Nas]
The blues came from gospel, gospel from blues
Slaves are harmonizin' them ah's and ooh's
Old school, new school, know school rules
All these years I been voicin' my blues
I'm a artist from the start, Hip-Hop guided my heart
Graffiti on the wall, coulda ended in Spoffard, juvenile delinquent
But Pops gave me the right type'a tools to think with
Books to read, like X and stuff
'Cause the schools said the kids had dyslexia
In art class I was a compulsive sketcher of
Teachers in my homeroom, I drew pix to mess them up
'Cause none'a them would like my style
Read more books than the curriculum profile
Said, "Mr. Jones please come get your child
'Cause he's writin' mad poems and his verses are wild"
[Olu Dara singing]
Greatest man ? The great-greatest man alive
[Verse 3: Nas]
Hey-Hey-Hey -- My Poppa was not a Rollin' Stone
He been around the world blowin' his horn, still he came home
Then he got grown, changed his name to Olu
Come on, tell 'em 'bout the places you gone to
[Olu Dara singing]
I been to Saudi Arabia, Mozambique
Madagascar, Paris, Greece
The Middle Africa is where we lived
Better known as Queenbridge
[Nas]
Nas, Nas you don't stop
Olu Dara in the house, you don't stop
Muddy Waters' Howling Wolf you don't stop
From the Blues to Street Hop you don't stop
Tell 'em Pop
[Outro: Olu Dara singing / Nas adlibbing]
See I come from Mississippi (Let 'em know)
I was young and runnin' wild (Runnin' wild)
Ended up in New York City (Yeah!)
Where I had my first child (That's me)
I named the boy Nasir (Yeah, Daddy!)
All the boys call him Nas (Luh ya, boy)
I told him as a youngster
He'll be the greatest man alive (You the greatest, Pop)
Greatest man alive (You the greatest, Pop)
Gre-Gre-Gre-Gre-Greatest man alive!
Rest In Peace Ray Charles

song performed by by Nas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Powder Blue

Powder blue, powder blue
What can ya do, shes powder blue
Powder blue, powder blue
What can ya do, shes powder blue
Ill be true (ba baa)
My powder blue (powder blue)
Its all for you (ba baa)
Its all for you
And ya know it
Powder blue, powder blue
The seventh sun of orion with me too
Oh powder blue, how do you do?
Come walk with me now, powder blue
Powder blue (ba baa)
Powder blue (powder blue)
Its all for you (ba baa)
Its all for you
And you can feel that
Powder blue, oh powder blue
Ive got this feeling, powder blue
Oh powder blue, powder blue
Its in my head for you
Ill be true (ba baa)
My powder blue (powder blue)
Its all for you (ba baa)
Its all for you
Bobby ogdin on the piano ... thanks, bobby
Mr. charlie mccoy, harmonica ... ah, charlie
Russ hicks, steel guitar...
And ladies & gentlemen, Id like to present: mohammed ali:
Everybody stop talking now, I tell ya....i told you, all of my critics, I told you all that I was the greatest of all time...
Now just listen...i told you today, Im still the greatest of all time...never again defeat me...never again say that Im going to be defeated...never again bet and make me an underdog, until i
Ut 50 years old. then you might get me. but I didnt dance, I didnt dance for a reason. I wanted to make him lose all his power, I kept tellin he had no punch, he couldnt hit, he swang like a
Y, hes missin, let me see you box, I hadnt start dancin yet! you cant say my legs are gone, you cant say I was tired, because what happened? I didnt dance from the second round on. I stay
The ropes. when I stay on the ropes, you think Im doin bad. but I want all boxers to put this in the page of boxing: staying on ropes is a beautiful thing with a heavyweight when you make him
T his best shot, and you know hes not hittin ya. I wouldve gave george foreman two rounds of steady punchin, because after that he was mine.

song performed by by Ween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Powder Blue

Powder blue, powder blue
What can ya do, shes powder blue
Powder blue, powder blue
What can ya do, shes powder blue
Ill be true (ba baa)
My powder blue (powder blue)
Its all for you (ba baa)
Its all for you
And ya know it
Powder blue, powder blue
The seventh sun of orion with me too
Oh powder blue, how do you do?
Come walk with me now, powder blue
Powder blue (ba baa)
Powder blue (powder blue)
Its all for you (ba baa)
Its all for you
And you can feel that
Powder blue, oh powder blue
Ive got this feeling, powder blue
Oh powder blue, powder blue
Its in my head for you
Ill be true (ba baa)
My powder blue (powder blue)
Its all for you (ba baa)
Its all for you
Bobby ogdin on the piano ... thanks, bobby
Mr. charlie mccoy, harmonica ... ah, charlie
Russ hicks, steel guitar...
And ladies & gentlemen, Id like to present: mohammed ali:
Everybody stop talking now, I tell ya....i told you, all of my critics, I told you all that I was the greatest of all time...
Now just listen...i told you today, Im still the greatest of all time...never again defeat me...never again say that Im going to be defeated...never again bet and make me an underdog, until i
Ut 50 years old. then you might get me. but I didnt dance, I didnt dance for a reason. I wanted to make him lose all his power, I kept tellin he had no punch, he couldnt hit, he swang like a
Y, hes missin, let me see you box, I hadnt start dancin yet! you cant say my legs are gone, you cant say I was tired, because what happened? I didnt dance from the second round on. I stay
The ropes. when I stay on the ropes, you think Im doin bad. but I want all boxers to put this in the page of boxing: staying on ropes is a beautiful thing with a heavyweight when you make him
T his best shot, and you know hes not hittin ya. I wouldve gave george foreman two rounds of steady punchin, because after that he was mine.

song performed by by Ween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Luminous star gone

Luminous star gone

Michael Jackson, truly beloved son,
You are no more among us as person,
History will honour you and vacuumed felt,
Bowed head with respect and ice melt,

It was rising from the grave with full energy,
Society had nothing to offer but only bogey,
No cloths left but only white coffer,

May mark him as one of the greatest,
New pattern with songs newest,
Each with message of love and peace,
As good morning with cool breeze,

You served and loved as human being,
Shrouded with mystery but honest living,
Nothing is remembered bad or good,
Music was life and energy as food,

You survived as king of kings,
Melodies chorus with beautiful sing,
Crowned with jewel and diamond,
World was fascinating and almost fond,

I salute to soul, who suffered a lot,
Offered a treasure hidden in pot,
Soul departed with great pain,
Died with honour but not as martyrs slain

poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Unpardonable Sin

I do not cry, beloved, neither curse.
Silence and strength, these two at least are good.
He gave me sun and stars and ought He could,
But not a woman's love; for that is hers.

He sealed her heart from sage and questioner-
Yea, with seven seals, as he has sealed the grave.
And if she give it to a drunken slave,
The Day of Judgment shall not challenge her.

Only this much: if one, deserving well,
Touching your thin young hands and making suit,
Feel not himself a crawling thing, a brute,
Buried and bricked in a forgotten hell;

Prophet and poet be he over sod,
Prince among angels in the highest place,
God help me, I will smite him on the face,
Before the glory of the face of God.

poem by G.K. Chesterton from The Wild Knight and Other Poems (1900)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Rhyme & Reason

Oh well oh well so here we stand
But we stand for nothing
My heart calls to me in my sleep
How can i turn to it
'cause i'm all locked up in this
Dark place--
And i do not know i'm as good as dead
My head aches--
Warped and tied up i need to kill this pain
My head won't leave my head alone
And i don't believe it will
Until i'm dead and gone
My head won't leave my head alone
And i don't believe it willl
Until i'm six feet under gound
How long i'm tied up
My mind in knots--
My stomach reels in concern for what i might do or
What i've done
It's got me living in fear
Well i know these voices must
Be my sould i've had my grave
Lying wired and shut and quiet in my grave
Leave me here
Leave it to me to waste here
So young and here i am again
Talking to myself
A tv blares
Oh man
Oh how i wish i didn't smoke
Or drink to reason with my head
But sometimes this thick confusion
Grows utnil i cannot bear it all
Needle to the vein
Needle to the vein
Take this needle from my vein my fiend
I said
In my grave
Lying, lying cold in my grave
The reason--my reason
Take my head off this terror
The fearing won't come back
I can't see my mind's all wiped clean
The needle
Make my great escape
I seem caught in time
My head leaves me behing
Body fall cold
And i have seen heaven

song performed by by Dave Matthews Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My birthday was different this year

As I was rummaging through
the file boxes my wife had left for me
in the garage
I found a yellow legal pad
scribbled with hand written poems
I had written one night
in a almost crowded coffeehouse
waiting for a poet friend from Chicago
to come up north to read

The poems talked about
how I waited and waited
before too long
several anxious poets
ran up to the microphone
not afraid to trip over themselves
share their delicate poems
about romance and almost romance
detailing having a job they don't like
and it seemed to me
they were also not liking much else about their lives
besides their job they didn't like

My Chicago artist friend as usual
was more then an hour late
which isn't bad considering Chicago
is almost three hours away
so most other places
damn, she would have been early

When I read the poem
I wrote about being at a reading
I didn't want to be at

I realized I was spending my birthday
by myself in a coffeehouse
writing poems
not making much eye contact
with people I didn't even like
although one of the poets
I think Francine is her name
came up to me during a break and said 'hi'
but she didn't remember my name
or knew it was my birthday
and a couple of days after my anniversary
or that I was getting a divorce

that poem I read
was a good sign of things to come

because this year
on my birthday
I woke up with a new friend in my bed
multiple orgasms for her to share
before having a nice breakfast together
of eggs, sausage, hash browns and italian toast
cooked on the George Foreman grill
and things didn't look or feel
the same again

poem by Oscar Mireles
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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