It is my pleasure sharing his poems Bonnie. I want to say, despite your profession, you are such a gifted writer. Such clarity in thought, such beauty in presentation. I miss reading more of yours in the forum. Knew you been busy. Travel well ok.
thanks Maayan..have been too busy with my wayward son. Just got into London and he announced he is doing this MTV music video which some director is investing in him and he wants to get married having runaway home on a ticket he bought with my credit card..and got home to throw a party with his friends without my permission...He is putting all my legal and mothering experience to the ultimate test! Did not have time to go up north to KL..was completely stressed out by this son of mine..unconditional love sure needs redefining here..could well write a play out of this episode..
I wrote this poem long ago....when I was in love with my first true love...probably my last, but hopefully not....
"Why am I looking at you like this?
Only because I want to watch your lips..
two pieces of overipe fruit part as your
words slide slowly over your tongue
I memorize them"
Thanks Maayan for sharing that lovely poem..I can see why you were both such a romantic couple...
We were two mercenary wordsmiths only writing for money..nothing aesthetic at all..
dry reams of dusty legal papers that would drive entire roomful of pin-stripe suited men to doze off at meetings that span through the night...the only time anyone would read those stuff again was when there is a dispute...
Why do you doubt that it is not mine..I was a published poet since 16..wrote for mercenary reasons only..lol
Poetry is a much forgotten form of literary expression , a dying art which I would love to see revive..I usually compose rhymo-grams for friends' birthdays..an alternative to stripo-gram which all my friends love..
would love to use them as lyrics to songs too if only I was more musical..
NIce to have a man who appreciates poetry and writes it too.not many men these days bother to express themselves in such fine well thought out words...but they all have no time to stand and stare let alone put thoughts to paper...
of Man's world
he squanders it
on his death bed
where he has spent it
for the last grain
as the sand of time
slips through his fingers
Empty, lonely, broken hearted
A million words can't explain how I felt
when you departed
oh how I long for your sensitive touch
I never knew how I loved you so much
Streams flow down from my eyes
It seems like they will never dry
I close my eyes then see your face
I can see you touch me
feel your embrace
but when I open my eyes
i'm over-ruled by this confusion
when I look twice
your just an illusion
I can't explain the loss
I can't explain my feelings
I know one thing
I do need time for healing
but how can I heal when the one I love
left me for another?
In all honesty
There would be no other
I'll just stay in my room
Locked alone in the dark
away from reality
and keep the key to my heart.
How far away is heaven, and will you see me once you're there?
Is it just beyond the clouds with a golden stair?
Will you look the same or as an angel with wings?
Would I recognize you if I heard an angel sing?
How far away is heaven and why must you go so soon?
Is it somewhere over a rainbow, or just beyond the moon?
Will you remember me then when your spirit soars so high?
Would you recognize me if you heard your angel cry?
How far away is heaven?
I guess I'll never know.
I'm sure too far to touch you, when it's time for you to go.
How far away is heaven?
A million miles from me, and the little girl who loves you,
And who calls you Daddy.
Hello from Latvia! Nice to see so beautiful flowers in your hands! I writed poetry from youth and one poem i have writed about this beautifull flowers! I adore irises too and can send my poem as gift to u, nice lady, from all my heart, sorry writed in russian language. But i will try to translate it. Best regards from Riga! Gala
Doesn't EVERYONE write poetry??? I do a webpage about poetry, and sometimes feature my own stuff there. Usually, though, it's showcasing my favorites. My favorite poet is Mary Oliver. She ties man to nature as no one else ever could -- if you haven't read any of her works, you might want to take a look.
a wordsmith by profession
words fire all our imagination
a lost art no doubt
only practised by those with clout
perhaps there is still a glimmer of hope
if men could learn the magic of wooing with words than just grope