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MY LYRICS - POEMS - PASSAGES
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| 410. |
28 Feb 2009 Sat 11:20 am |
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I am posting poetry that had significance to me at the time of posting I don´t feel the need to provide a link. if you feel you need to find and provide a link for each poetry post I provide please feel free.
It is a matter of fairness and accuracy to cite the author of a poem... 
In spite of those who are eager to look up themselves 
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| 411. |
28 Feb 2009 Sat 11:49 am |
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It is a matter of fairness and accuracy to cite the author of a poem...
In spite of those who are eager to look up themselves
Agreed.
A link isn´t necessary, just simply add the name of the poet. Some posters write their own poetry here and some quote their favourites, it´s nice to know which is which.
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| 412. |
28 Feb 2009 Sat 06:25 pm |
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It is a matter of fairness and accuracy to cite the author of a poem...
In spite of those who are eager to look up themselves
Yes also agree in fairness to the poet, the author should be cited, and I agree, it is nice know if someone has written it themselves, as Cybernetics does.
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| 413. |
02 Mar 2009 Mon 11:52 am |
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Sometimes I ponder about what will come next
Where will my life turn when it seems to stall?
When is the next time I will smile again?
and how will I get up, should I fall?
Happiness fills me with a touch of sadness.
By that I mean I know it can´t last.
Beauty decays, laughter subsides
When will the stones be cast?
Tragedy can be measured
by the amount of happiness taken away
Elusion is our only protection
As we fall victim to its prey
So when I´ve reached a fork in life´s road
and the choices are many or few.
I follow the one that leads away from misfortune
Thats all I can really do
When life is good
You have to hold it in your hand
You have to close your eyes
You have to breathe it in!
Happiness may end
While tragedy begins
Today is the beginning
Is tomorrow the end?
Annon
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| 414. |
02 Mar 2009 Mon 01:41 pm |
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New one for today..
Þiirlerimde Özgürüm.
Tüm þiirlerimi okudum bugün,
Gördüðüm sadece bir þey var
Nasýl da sevmiþim seni...
Hasret, özlem, beklemek, umut..
Bir mucize, bir rüya, bir özveri..
Deðer vermek, deðer bilmek,
Sadece ellerini tutabilmek, güzel yüzüne bakabilmek
Seninle yaþayabilmek, seni mutlu edebilmek
Kalbimi vermiþim birkere , sonsuza dek onu tut diye
Anlatmýþým sevgimi mýsralarda karþýlýk beklemeden
Çekip çýkarmýþsýn beni karanlýklardan her korktuðumda
Þiirlerimde özgürsem eðer, sosuza dek özgür olacaðým
Sende benimle özgür ol "nedensiz sevdiðim"
Ben ýssýz limanlarda seni bekliyor olacaðým...
Cenk..
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| 415. |
05 Mar 2009 Thu 07:01 am |
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Desire
By nowordsmith
Smoke-like, drifting in an open door;
Too late! I should have closed it.
Filtering through the house,
Touching nothing,
Touching everything.
Ghosting through rooms,
Exploring crack and glim,
Leaving no mark,
Nothing unmarked.
Curling to the merest hint of air,
Caressing with fragrance,
Changing nothing,
Changing everything.
Ah, desire.
Summer 1999
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| 416. |
05 Mar 2009 Thu 09:49 am |
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New one for today..
Þiirlerimde Özgürüm.
Tüm þiirlerimi okudum bugün,
Gördüðüm sadece bir þey var
Nasýl da sevmiþim seni...
Hasret, özlem, beklemek, umut..
Bir mucize, bir rüya, bir özveri..
Deðer vermek, deðer bilmek,
Sadece ellerini tutabilmek, güzel yüzüne bakabilmek
Seninle yaþayabilmek, seni mutlu edebilmek
Kalbimi vermiþim birkere , sonsuza dek onu tut diye
Anlatmýþým sevgimi mýsralarda karþýlýk beklemeden
Çekip çýkarmýþsýn beni karanlýklardan her korktuðumda
Þiirlerimde özgürsem eðer, sosuza dek özgür olacaðým
Sende benimle özgür ol "nedensiz sevdiðim"
Ben ýssýz limanlarda seni bekliyor olacaðým...
Cenk..
Freedom in poetry
I read all my poems today
I can see only one thing:
And it is ´How much I do love you´
Craving, longing, waiting, hoping..
A miracle, a dream, a bit of a secrifice.
Knowing the worth, being valued.
Being able to hold your hands only, being able to look at your beautiful face
Being able to live with you, being able to make you happy
I have given my heart for once so you can keep it there forever
I have told my love in lines without expecting anything back
You have taken me out of darkness when ever I was scared.
If I am free in my poems, I will be free till the eternity
Come and be free with me "my love without a reason"
I will be waiting for you in lonely harbours.
My try.
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| 417. |
05 Mar 2009 Thu 12:38 pm |
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Thank you so much Handsom. i am grateful 
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| 418. |
05 Mar 2009 Thu 03:53 pm |
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An incredibly beautiful poem by Henry Longfellow..................
The Day is Done
The day is done, and the darkness
Falls from the wings of night,
As a feather is wafted downward
From an eagle in his flight.
I see the lights of the village
Gleam through the rain and the mist,
And a feeling of sadness comes o´er me
That my soul cannot resist:
A feeling of sadness and longing,
That is not akin to pain,
And resembles sorrow only
As the mist resembles the rain.
Come, read to me some poem,
Some simple and heartfelt lay,
That shall soothe this restless feeling,
And banish the thoughts of day.
Not from the grand old masters,
Not from the bards sublime,
Whose distant footsteps echo
Through the corridors of Time.
For, like strains of martial music,
Their mighty thoughts suggest
Life´s endless toil and endeavor;
And to-night I long for rest.
Read from some humbler poet,
Whose songs gushed from his heart,
As showers from the clouds of summer,
Or tears from the eyelids start;
Who, through long days of labor,
And nights devoid of ease,
Still heard in his soul the music
Of wonderful melodies.
Such songs have power to quiet.
The restless pulse of care,
And come like the benediction
That follows after prayer.
Then read from the treasured volume
The poem of thy choice,
And lend to the rhyme of the poet
The beauty of thy voice.
And the night shall be filled with music
And the cares, that infest the day,
Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs,
And as silently steal away.
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| 419. |
05 Mar 2009 Thu 10:08 pm |
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Night Poem
There is nothing to be afraid of,
it is only the wind
changing to the east, it is only
your father the thunder
your mother the rain
In this country of water
with its beige moon damp as a mushroom,
its drowned stumps and long birds
that swim, where the moss grows
on all sides of the trees
and your shadow is not your shadow
but your reflection,
your true parents disappear
when the curtain covers your door.
We are the others,
the ones from under the lake
who stand silently beside your bed
with our heads of darkness.
We have come to cover you
with red wool,
with our tears and distant whispers.
You rock in the rain´s arms,
the chilly ark of your sleep,
while we wait, your night
father and mother,
with our cold hands and dead flashlight,
knowing we are only
the wavering shadows thrown
by one candle, in this echo
you will hear twenty years later.
------------------- -- Margaret Atwood
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| 420. |
06 Mar 2009 Fri 12:10 am |
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Matsurika (Jasmine)
Gracefully you roll up the gauzy curtains
Of my clouded, weary heart, choked with grief, and brilliantly
One day your face is revealed in the languid, seductive
Brightness of poppies blooming in fields of enticement.
Even as, allured by whisperings that melt my soul,
I embrace you again, I feel I shall weep.
The most secred of sorrows, the trap of dreams-in your arms
my aching arms are imprisoned.
Again, one evening, I could not see you, but there came
The indefinable soft rustling of your spun-silk garment--
That was I all I heard, and my heart at that moment was riven.
In a room at night fragrant with the scent of jasmine
Your smile, mingled in that odor, sought my wound,
Sank into it, perfumed it, elegantly, again and again.
--------------------------------- ---Kambara Ariake (1876-1947)
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