From the book: In the Name of the Rose / Umberto Eco
Red rose growing in the meadow, you vaunt yourself bravely bathed in crimson and carmine: a rich and fragrant show. But no: Being fair, You will be unhappy soon
no lie in her fire
she's mad,but she's magic.There's no lie in her fire.
Seven days.
Seven days drag by, again days end sans you. You wont see if I cry, or smell my hairs shampoo. I won't know your hand's are cold, or why you're feeling blue. All my thoughts are untold, but they are all of you, and the love that we withhold,
Acceptance.
Can't believe it's really over. Won't understand, we broke up. Can't conceive you wont stay over. Or comprehend there's no catch up. The end of us does not compute. Acknowledge, that you want me gone? Digest the thought but must refute. Can'
Mr Bean Bridget Jones
I know I can relate to this poem on a couple of occasions .lol... and I wished the floor had opened up and swallowed me up, however...if not at the time...on reflection ,I was able to see the funny side too :)
Quote !
The poem is a drop of water, he gives the desert the idea of the flower.
$3.50 Black Friday Paper
I have never bought anything on Black Friday. I just buy a newspaper to see why over 45 million people go nuts over this stuff.
Maestro's Masterpiece
Sitting by the Lake in Nepal, motionless witnessing the setting Sun ...
My shy king
Almost a year :) Patience? lol!
Drowning
Aint life grand!!
It's A New Day...........
It speaks for it'self .............
Darkness Falls
Tears roll down my cheeks tonight The soil beneath my feet in blight Is it because I stand upon this earth, to spread my poison on? The darkness inside Spreading outwards to destroy Noone to protect you Or hear you cry All alone you'll be
Pssion.written by me...
What passion has she awoke in me What hunger she made me feel Never had a woman touched my very Soul As if she walked right through me Taking residence in my heart Her lips embrace me Her breasts bid me come Her legs wrapped around me li
Love Painted Me Red
about Love of Supreme
Christmas Surprise!
Wouldn't it be lovely If he popped the question the one, that you wanted to hear! You Know the one "Merry Christmas My Dear"
O To Swim
You *Inspire* Me ! Weather It Be Poetry, Or Art Work, Or Lovin' It Just Happens !
novel danube3135
just A deep emotion
A forgotten Girl
a step away, into the unknown.
Why we wander in network?.
Why we wander in network?... Perhaps we hide the loneliness.... Perhaps we dream to find happiness... Ah, as everyone it wants... Perhaps just from grief we run?... From mel
Staying Power
It comes from my interactions with my friends and relatives who are married.They give me a realistic picture of marriage.
Due Thanksgiving
“Due Thanksgiving” is a poem I wrote a couple of weeks before the American holiday of Thanksgiving. Our “Harvest Festival”, if you like. And it’s celebrated on the last Thursday in November, each year. And, a couple of weeks before the actual holiday, I got into a reflective mood, thinking about that first Thanksgiving, (Which has devolved into a very commercialized excuse for a “family feast/get together”, now.) and what it was about. And I ended up writing the poem, “Due Thanksgiving”. It’s my take on what “Thanksgiving” is really SUPPOSED to be about. Although it rarely is, today. And there certainly is a religious aspect and context to the holiday, as well as the poem. It started as a Celebration of God’s bounty to his people. And the particular people who started this great “Thanksgiving” were, in fact, “Christians”. A small offshoot branch of “Christianity”, but Christians, nonetheless. And, for such a long poem, something that you may find interesting, is that, from start to finish, this poem only took me between 2 and 3 hours to write. It was almost like there was a hand guiding mine. But the poem isn’t meant to proselytize Christianity. Most people that know me, will tell you that I’m NOT a “religious” person. And, if you’re speaking in terms of “organized” religions, and/or churches, that’s true enough. But I DO have a “spiritual” side. But I think that a man’s “spiritual” nature is his own business! Between him, and HIS “God”. (Just as I don’t feel MY relationship with MY “Higher Power” is anybody’s business, but mine and His! And you might be interested to know that this poem was originally written in a 4 beat meter (as are the majority of my poems, for some reason I’ve never discovered/understood). But, after people bugging me to “do something” with this poem (which is one of the few poems of mine that I’ve shared, openly, with people who I thought might appreciate it) for somewhere around 30+ years, now, I’ve finally broken down and had a poster made up, with this poem. And, to do that, I tried to break it down into a more natural “spoken” rhythm, which is the version you just read. But there are actually several versions of this poem. (I have a propensity for RE-writing my poems. I NEVER consider one of my poems “finished”. They’re ALWAYS open to rewriting, if I think of a way to say something that “I” feel is “better” than my initial phrasing.) Anyway, I hope you enjoy it.
Due Thanksgivimg
“Due Thanksgiving” is a poem I wrote a couple of weeks before the American holiday of Thanksgiving. The American "Thanksgiving" is, basically, a harvest festival/feast. This banquet became known as “Thanksgiving”, because it was meant as a “Thanks Giving” to God, for the bounty He had given to His people. And this harvest banquet became an annual event, which, over the years, spread to all parts of what is now the United States of America. And it’s celebrated on the last Thursday in November, each year. And, a couple of weeks before the actual holiday, I got into a reflective mood, thinking about that first Thanksgiving, (Which has devolved into a very commercialized excuse for a “family feast/get together”, now.) and what it was about. And I ended up writing the poem, “Due Thanksgiving”. It’s my take on what “Thanksgiving” is really SUPPOSED to be about. Although it rarely is, today. And there certainly is a religious aspect and context to the holiday, as well as the poem. It started as a Celebration of God’s bounty to his people. And the particular people who started this great “Thanksgiving” were, in fact, “Christians”. A small offshoot branch of “Christianity”, but Christians, nonetheless. And, for such a long poem, something that you may find interesting, is that, from start to finish, this poem only took me between 2 and 3 hours to write. It was almost like there was a hand guiding mine. But the poem isn’t meant to proselytize Christianity. Most people that know me, will tell you that I’m NOT a “religious” person. And, if you’re speaking in terms of “organized” religions, and/or churches, that’s true enough. But I DO have a “spiritual” side. But I think that a man’s “spiritual” nature is his own business! Between him, and HIS “God”. (Just as I don’t feel MY relationship with MY “Higher Power” is anybody’s business, but mine and His!
Century 21
The hypocrisy and contradictions of our world in century 21...vast knowledge, huge wealth, yet war, poverty, disease and suffering are rampant, while others enjoy fantastic comforts and luxuries...
Prayer
Me bringing up my awareness and knowing I don't walk alone
Christmas Surprise!
Wouldn't it be lovely If he popped the question the one, that you wanted to hear! You Know the one "Merry Christmas My Dear"
Schizophrenia. ( Owed To Tom.)
A good friend's life. lost, to a world of Schizophrenia.
I know you
I love you with all my heart My soul laid bare from the start How you sucked me into your plans How your deceit ground me down You left me adrift in unfamiliar lands I want to put you on the highest pedestal High in the sky made with c
You listen to the heart
You are a billeting once and listen, What does your soul want? We so often don't listen to soul, On a habit hurrying somewhere... We it is so frequent - in desires of t
MEMORIES....
playing music that reminds us, of a special time and place.....
ARTISTIC PALETTE.....
unsual snow patterns have given NZ a reality check, though it is cold in the north, we hopefully won't have snow like the south, but this in our short winter, herald of spring ....so soon will warm, ready for summer when dreams are born.....
''''LOVE'''
She likes me but I just love her Alas my heart repeats it too often I do not know how to stop this pain I do not know how to live this fear. I love him so much and with a little banal love I love it so much that it hurts me too much How can I f
Does She Sigh When I'm Feeling Alone
Does she sigh when I'm feeling all alone? Does she dream of me when she’s falling asleep? When the stars rise in the night does she dance in their light? When a sudden warmth glows in me is that her in my heart? Is her voice rising through the
MEMORIES
Like to let my mind wander in different directions and see what it comes up with
Laughed..I Cried :)
Had such a laugh tonight, soooooo funny !!
EYES OF SINCERITY....
I think we all have a special memory....if we're lucky, more than one, but loving another......is like holding a hand.....you sense it long after it has physically gone.....
no title
soul of colored houses hearts on broken ships friendship a shelters storm the rays of light show again for the gates of heaven were only a passing cloud
Decaying love.
It seemed we were so pure. We gave such tender loving care. I felt so proud of us and sure. we were so beautiful and rare. Can't comprehend your rejection, and contempt that I still care. Hope lost in shitty recollection. Love now a casual a
O To Swim
You *Inspire* Me ! Weather It Be Poetry, Or Art Work, Or Lovin' It Just Happens !
A Tender Love So True
I was there for a little while you were in my view Years go by still the sting of love leave me with thoughts of you And a tender love so true I was there for a little while I saw your eyes of blue Sometimes you would hang your head I didn't kn
Why?
My body's demand, silenced thought, but you also came at it's bequest. And we took the road to our old haunt, all consequences unaddressed. Senses, lips, and tongues gluttonous, carnal lust shattering constraint. My head turned, seeking raven
Thoughts on my 84th birthday.
What can write to celebrate the years, made better for having endured harsh unspeakable times, yet in such times, the beauty of nature and the hope that belong to the human spirit moved the pen to compensate the ill born days of childhood, I daily grateful for my vision and the air that I breathe, so thank you for sharing it with me.
LOVE.....I got my first sight
FINISHED for my daughter McKenna who is three weeks old.