the love that has no meaning,
the silver ports of the moon,
shine so bright,
that it blinds you in the twilight
she is beautiful and she is divine
she is the song sang by the sweet nightingales
in the gardens of worthy, overgrowning and blooming roses,
like wildfire grow tall and the thornes of the vines
tangle around her feet and drag her ever so slightly
throughout the garden of beauty.
As the roses lay along a table,
as she sits at the table
and she waits for me, the wordman
to come to the dinner table at the stroke of nine
and sit with her,
start a scene or two of romantic setting,
to pursue love in her name.
Love is around us,
the candlelight shines and reflects in her silk hair,
as her evening dress glitters and shines
and her bossom shows itself in the nightsky
as we lay together,
we pursue a dream together,
forever we live together forever,
as we stand upon the belcony of Romeo and Juliet's love scene
we swim in a pool of sweet divine care and love,
we swallow grapes and drink wine
hand and hand on Persian rugs and virgin white cloth sheets,
we dance to a simple, yet sweet Chopin's masterpiece
of his beautiful nocturnes,
which make such a sweet and romantic song in our heads.
We stomp out the flames
as we dance the night away,
and you lay in my arms,
and I kiss you upon your lovely head,
and you hold my hand,
and I hold you tight
never thinking of letting your love go away from me,
I would take my own life,
before I lose your love.
See us together,
it is a painting that lasts lifetimes,
that needs no touch-ups.
I care for you and love you!
Love me, I know you will.
My sweet and loving portrait lady,
who in reality is more beautiful than a fully bloomed rose
that sits on its green stem,
in the garden of beauty that sits outside my window.
Come up to my chambers
as I picked roses for you and pettles litter the atmosphere
as love's tension grows
and suspence brings us together,
let us make love tonight
seal the passion
and pursue love once and for all.
Then shall we wake with the first rays of the blazing of the morning sun,
I shall wake next to your beauty and glory,
and I shall point my attention to the heavens
and thank the Gods for sending you on the open road,
toward my chamber door, I call my heart.
Then we shall dress, and walk the pathways
in the garden of beauty
and I shall pick a bauquet of roses
and we shall sit by the lake and pursue our love
for one another
and nothing, not one earthquake shall shake us apart.
Strawberries And Unknown Girl
Strawberries grow unaided in the field
Green, red and magic on the day
Sentinels stationed; they speak kindly of the Sun
And sometimes of an unknown girl
She’s there just out of reach
In the air, partaking of sweet pleasures
Years collect themselves in silence
Still sense her song and mystery adrift
Along strawberry rows aligned in history
Those corridors of time in endless days at play
And there she stays a fair young maiden
A constant unknown wonder to this day
Entered in - "I Love Rock N' Roll" Poetry Contest 11/14/14
Inspired by: John Lennon and The Beatles
The song: Strawberry Fields Forever
As I pull weeds from cracks in sidewalks
Yout sit on top of thrones made of solid gold
And I pay no mind to the women around me,
Only to your beauty do I hold an Ode.
I see my fair Spanish lady
my daring, sweet rose with thorns,
That run up and down her spine.
As she stops in the daily parade
Waving at the peasants,
She looks at me and summons her guards
Too take me away.
Her beauty is unbearable.
I cannot take not being with her
For a single moment in my life.
Black like coal,
Her smile is bright, as the first rays of the Red Sun
In the dawn.
Her lips painted with ruby lipstick,
her silk laced dress and shawl wrap around her,
Like a beautiful butterfly in her cocoon.
Her skin of olive, dark color and her green eyes.
My God, those sweet and piercing green eyes
Oh, how they hit my soul and make me shiver with excitment.
She is intoxicating and I am intoxicated in her beauty.
She is like an angel, a Latina beauty who walks the streets paved gold,
As I walk the cracked, cobblestone walkways.
She shines in the Spanish sun, like a dimoand in the ruff
As you blow the dust off her sweet brow,
she glows and sparkles with extordinary excellence.
She is beautiful and sweet and kind.
She loves me, but her father minds.
I am only a peasant, and she royalty.
Can our love ever be together in one holy matrimony?
I pray to the Lord, of all that is good,
Please give me a sign that she loves me.
Soon a storm came over,
blowing me down to the ground
And a cloud of dust swallowed me whole.
A great Conquistador on a great white stallion
pulled me up and told me that she wanted to see me.
I shacked with nervous of joy as I followed the warrior.
She was there, under a palm tree
Near a beautiful beach in Barcelona.
She smiled and a glow covered me with passion.
I hugged her and kissed her upon her sweet lips.
I tasted virginity and she tasted loyalty.
We both tasted beauty and harmony.
As the warrior left us,
We made love upon a vigin white sheet,
Soon covered with a flowing river of red.
She moaned with exticy and love was in the air.
The Ode to my sweet Spaniad, Mi Corazon!
We lay there in each others arms
Looking up at a clear night sky
The twilight glimmered ever so softly
And a shooting star blazed across the sky
I kissed her and she kissed me.
I whispered in her, "My love forever"
And she pushed me back upon the sheets
and we made sweet and ever lasting love again.
As we looked in each other's almond colored eyes.
I said to her, in a soft voice, Mi Corazon.
Feel me standing there
on the draw bridge
that stands stubburn and erect
over the rushing waters blown by the wind
back and forth.
I listened to the crows
posted on gargoils designed
of eightenth century Gothic architecture
singing their death songs,
when the sun is setting in the far.
The voices of women passing
startle me with a feeling of sorrow
I can't breathe, I am dying.
Feel me, can you feel me rot away?
Slowly but surely rot away
as time passes with ease,
and taxi cabs take smiling, intoxicated faces
to wayward cafes, oh how they screech to a halting stop
and wave to me to get in.
"No thank you, I'd rather walk." I say to the smiling faces
highly intoxicated with the thought of the birds and the bees
rattling around in their empty minds.
Then they drive off, into the city lights and turn a darkened corner.
I look at the rushing water
and feel myself rot away
slowly but surely rot away.
Can you feel me?
Can you hear me?
Can you see me?
Feel my heart thump with slow paces
that manage to keep up with fast melodies.
Of songs that play in your mind
only the ones that make you sigh
and think those one days in Spring time
as you walked over the draw bridge
and paid no mind to the water underneth.
I hear no more talk of you and me, I hear no more talk
of the good old times we all shared.
Time has passed, as I take my last breathe
and hold my chest and shead a tear.
Feel me, can you?
If you can, put your hand to my weak heart
and feel it thump away with every second wasted
on useless items.
Now, see me a man of one time greatness
reflect his life with a reflection in the water below.
How I sigh and cry and breath heavely,
as I feel myself rot away.
The voices of woman pass me by.
Tomorrow is a new day,
for the smiling faces in taxi cabs will go home
and soak their raging hangovers with cool, wet rags.
As I still stand on the draw bridge singing with the crows,
feeling myself rot away.
Can you feel me without you, rotting away?
I surely can feel myself rot.
Such a heavy word, "rot"
So vulgare, yet a great description of me,
I pull out a shawl you once wore and I kiss it.
As the wind gusts and the sun rises and my shadow
comes to meet me, the wind shall take my last memory
of you away.
And I shall weep no more.
Then what will I do? Shall I walk the streets
and think of you.
Yes you, still rambling all throughout my head
like a lose screw.
Can you feel me? Feel me rot away
feel me think about you, and all your works.
Can you feel me?
The woman stares into the sun,
Hoping he will blind her from the fragrance of failure,
The woman stares into the sun,
Hoping she will scorch away the sound of sadness,
But the sun, laughs mockingly.
And says, “I shine, see me!”
The woman, confused looks to her life and says,
“Where is the sun, in your countenance? For all I see is darkness”
The woman stares into the twilight sunset,
And asks, “The sun has spurned me, why?”
And the twilight smiles, “Read between the lines my daughter, for things are not so dark.”
And the woman winked at the sun and said, “Thank you for your gratitude”
And in that moment, she grabbed her life crying and said, “You’re mine!”
Oh my sweet and beautiful Penelope
Oh how beautiful you are, and when I see you come down
to the pearl gates of immortality and come down to see me,
as we join hands and walk the shorelines
I see you my beautiful Penelope, she you who walks through beauty,
We shall join in immortality.
Your heart built of stone and paved in golden
you born out of the beauty of a rose and maturity of a lady
you are the one who never sings a depressing and low melody.
My Beautiful Penelope,
The one beautiful lady form Napoli
Oh, how you walk in such glory.
See me look over you and hear my heart beat
for you, I love you, see me for I care about you.
Take it from me, for I shall take you by the hand
and as our shadows rise to meet us in the morning
I can make love to you, then we shall love the night away.
My beautiful Penelope, as I take you through the twilight
we dream of shooting stars falling from the evening skies,
as we hold each other close,
take me and I shall take you and bring each other together,
and fuse us together with a sweet and loving kiss.
She is my beauty and I love her
she takes me by the hand and curels me to her warm chest.
Cares for me,
Makes me laugh,
Makes me feel good and uplifts my soul
everytime I lay my almond eyes upon her beauteous body.
My beautiful Penelope, oh how I see the glory in your blue eyes,
your luxurious, long flowing hair colored golden
like the rays of the morning sun.
Dare to care
about such beauty in her eyes?
Dare to care
about such beauty in her cries,
as she tells me of her suicide struggles?
I hold you close to me
and I hope you to be
my love for all eternity.
See me and I see you to tell me about you and your day,
as you come home and say,
That you love me.
And I shall say I love you too,
with a zealous attitude in my voice
I shall take you into our room and you shall tell me about your day.
You shall tell me, under the shadows of the trees, the houses, the red rocks.
I shall show you love in a handful of roses,
deliver you a bouquet of roses and violets,
as we see the breeding lilacs grow tall,
we shall lay in the grasslands and look up at the clouds,
that shape themselves into beautiful paintings in the glorious blue sea
we call the sky.
Oh My beautiful Penelope
my glorious maiden lady,
who sings such beauty in her melody
that it brings tears to nightingales' eyes.
My beautiful Penelope, you are my love
here are a dozen roses for you to express and show my love for you,
my beautiful Penelope.
Love is eternal with you.
Walking in the meadow of life on that summer day
Where she always loved to be at Una walked along the steady stream
As she picked up the white Lilly flower and put upon her hair of gold (princess of love)
And the daughter of a dander king
Una suddenly turned her head to the old orchard tree and begun to sing roman lullabies of joy
With tears of affection shed for the god who lives above the skies
At that moment she gazed back to the stream
And there the lion stood so tall just like a king eyes wide looked to una
As she went toward the mighty lion he went to her and utter'd thee words
I am a creature of pride with nothing to hide I am pure of heart true of courage with a mask of savage a mane gold as our hearts-
She became very happy and intrigued
As she laid her gentle hands on upon the lion she spoke these words
-I love thee lion and by sun and moon I love thee freely as men strive for right;
I love thee purely in my old griefs and childhood's faith
There a tiny lamb appears right next to her and the lion
So small and graceful like a gift from god above
The tiny lamb followed them further into the enchanted meadow sky as crystal blue and the wind is calm they drifted off strung into the world
To bring new love joy and courage to the world and spread good faith
A night full of nightmares
and suicidal tendencies,
feeling pain rush, like tidal waves
crushing me and blood boiling
anger wishes and takes the best of me;
but can I heal my own heartbreak?
Will I ever find love again?
See the angel of death come to me,
smiles and says come with me.
Oh, Wake me, when the morning comes,
so I can show evil the light.
Feelings eternal and fragile,
she walks some lonesome highway
travelled by the ones who fall in love.
She a grand fool, who takes life for
wake her with the morning light
and shine down rays of goodness and
and show her the path that leads back to
Wake me when the morning comes,
place her upon my doorstep
and a smile upon her loving face,
I'm not ready to move on just yet.
I don't want anymore nightmares
and nightly visits from the black angels.
I don't want to see blue eyed Death,
with his grinning skull and black robe.
I want to see the sunshine break through
and I want to hear the birds sing love
and the trees dancing to the wind's sweet
I want to awake to her sweet and glorious
Wake me, when the morning comes,
when I can open my eyes to anew
and see life in a new day,
and live life in a new way.
Beautiful women stridding along
beach front properties
after the cruel april showers have rolled through
damaging and overflooding the hanging geraniums,
and the despise of jealous boys
rolling through hemlock, with trousers stained with sand,
they gaze like dogs looking at a juicy bone,
at the beautiful women, all of them walking hand and hand
singing songs of love, as hummingbirds and nightingales
soar high over their heads, keeping them all company,
all singing songs of love.
Go now, go now, into the gardens of beauty
there you'll find me hinding, waiting
for my beautiful women that spare no glance,
but a quick of a hand I am allowed.
Go now, go now, into the gardens of beauty
pick the red roses that bloom,
and leave the blue violets for the dead.
See the beautiful women, as the jealous boys huddle around me,
we gaze at their beauty and hold our breath,
till they start laughing.
They drink tea, read novels and talk about everything
that matters to naive girls' mind.
We listen and hear their secrets, some horrid
and some unbearable to listen too.
Go now, young boys and stride on
go to the beach front properties
in your straw hats and sandstained trousers
and call unto me, when the beautiful women
come once again striding along.
One beautiful woman I gaze upon
blonde hair, blue eyes
the sweetest of arian races
she wears her flannel, spring dress,
and cottonswab blouse,
she turns to me, hiding in the rose peaker bushes,
she looks at me and smiles.
I hide my emotion and I leave the garden of beauty,
to stride for another day.
To see the young, beautiful girls,
to see that one, that is not hard to spot
the one, like the first rose to bloom
she is not hard to spot.
One day, as I sit in the garden of beauty,
my courage will reign over me
and I shall present myself to her grace
and glorious beauty.
Go now my dear, go now, go to the garden of beauty,
and share your stories and drink your tea in peace;
Pick the ruby roses, but leave the blue violets for the dead,
for I am safe and I am just around the corner.
Written July 29, 2013
The wind blows the rainbows down
Turns your frown upside down
Then spins it back around
The sun hides the moon
Underneath its coat in bloom
The flowers came late this June
The rain in a teardrop
Falls like dew from a leaf
When she looks at me
See that look upon her face
Used to take her to the stars
Now she's headed back from Mars
Now that Venus loves her more
Wouldn't throw her to the floor
My love intended for the girl of my dreams,
she walks from side to side,
not knowing that I walk alone.
She is beautiful than any other thing in this simple world,
everything around her shakes and trembles
as she walks on by without a spare of a passing glance.
The wine is drunk
the last cigarette smoked,
the pain of heartache gone away.
It feels good to see her go my way,
to take the pain with her away from me,
as I sit in the wayward cafe on the river of ashes.
A beautiful girl she is mine,
but that course of life shall no surpass mine,
and my heart beats and takes me away
in hope of falling in love.
Irony of love and hate,
it is similar in many ways,
as I sit and think of her.
She angers me,
but when the vail of anger falls over my eyes,
the passion of love enters my mind.
Come now, take me away,
hold me in your beauty,
and love me with your gentle body.
Go into the gardens,
where the nightingales sing,
and sit at the patio's crossway.
Watch the artists paint pictures of the garden,
watch the writers write about the garden,
and watch us go and pick flowers in the garden.
The air smooth and wind breeze calms the nerves,
the pain of my sorrowed heart is soothed,
by her sweet intellegence and beauty.
Her eyes, orbs of blazing sunlight,
blind me with the beauty of her beauteous face,
her lips and skin smooth and pure.
She is glorious,
My love she is the dream girl,
who comes and takes my nightmares away from me.
As I sit on the park benches,
I light my last cigarette,
and reminicse on the days with my love.
I close my tired eyes only for a moment,
and the moment is gone,
my beauty is gone.
The tears are all gone,
the pain has gone,
the feelings of everlasting love are all gone.
Where did it all go?
Where did my beauty go?
Where did my love go?
All gone now, all gone now,
as I grow old,
the feeling of death takes me by surprise.
The park bench is cold,
the cigarette is burnt out,
I am longing for a drink.
I lay in a wayward cafe
drink a coffee and talk to myself
discussing a book of poetry.
Looking over to the right
I am blinded by beauty once again
this time this is no dream.
Alas, my dream girl came
that appeared in my sunny pleasure dome,
who has walked barefoot in the gardens of my mind.
She sat with me,
I looked at her
and we smiled together.
We held hands together,
and dreamed together,
forever and ever.
cigarettes smoked together.
A cloud over our heads
in the shape of a heart
Not under a Banyan tree
I drink coffee under an elm tree, one of many in the avenue; filtered sunlight
makes shifting pattern on the pavements, and the sun loses its cruel power.
A willowy woman walks into the only café where one can smoke, she likes to
drink coffee with her cigarette, her dog sits by the door looking in waiting.
A woman in her sixties who wears a long flowering dress, plenty of bracelets
and rings, too exotic to be Portuguese, is coming up the road. Married three
times, first to an army officer, from an aristocratic family, then to a Swiss
engineer, who built ski-lifts in the Alps. Her third husband is a poet and that
makes her sigh (downhill all the way dear) She frets about her daughter, who
is forty and not yet married. She had hoped her child would wed into
lofty society, but now she wishes her only offspring will find a man with
a steady job; not a cook or a waiter though, one must draw a line somewhere.
She has a glass of beer shows me her latest bracelet, bought this morning;
she smiles happy as a child as the sun goes on shining and leaves on elm trees
are deep, cooling green.
I do not know?
Life at times just ain't fair. It teaches a bitter lesson.
I go to look at myself, but in the mirror I see your
So hard you had tried. So hard you put up a fight, but
you couldn't prevail when the death-angel took you that
I curse the day when I heard that ring. I went to pick up
the phone. I lost all consciousness when I heard she was
dead and gone.
I didn't want to believe it. How could this possibly be?
My bestfriend has left me! Always she stood by me.
My day was a good one until the moment I lost you. How am
I to face the night when the sun went down with you?
Somebody out there is crying. You lost someone so dear.
I know how it feels when you cannot stop your tears.
A wife has lost her husband. So many years they stood
strong. Suddenly he was taken, leaving this woman to
grieve and moan.
A husband has lost his wife. Behind him she always stood.
She held the standard of a woman on how to treat her man
A son has lost his mother. He tries to keep moving ahead.
But he can't...often finding himself by her grave instead.
To mothers, fathers, children, cousins, aunts and uncles
to. Tell eachother that you love them before the sun sets
The sun sets on us thus bringing on the night. It goes
around to rise again giving us its radiant light.
Though you're gone
I'll remember you,
This my friend that much is true.
You'll rise again
Sleep on my friend
The sun will rise again with you.
I do not know?
A beautiful woman is regal and as stunning as the sun creeping through your window
And pushes open your weary eyes…
Just to say…It’s morning.
A gorgeous woman is a pleasure to a broken heart like a child’s smile in a ghetto’s poverty
When the chill of your past sins crawls up your spine and robs you of your peaceful mind…
What could cure the frigid bones and darkened spirit like the love of a woman
The strength of thousand woes….she’s suffered
The support of the earth beneath my feet
The encouragement. The belief. The trust!
She is so royal, exquisite, magnificent creature made to comfort my path and my tasks
Made to remind me that it is a soft word that breaks the bone
A soft look that rights the wrongs and tightens bond…
Between me and you…
With a crown as grand as this I understand why she might see you at my lowest and say,
“I have No Need for you”
And while you’re down she might decide to tell you how glorious she is.
While you stumble to regain your stature she may slide her slippery self-exalted accolades
beneath your feet so you find it hard to balance
Stand on your shoulders and say…
No Need to hear your words
When its your Joy….Your Peace….Your Love…
That reminded her of that crown
That polished that smile
So she knows…..
So she grows…
You served your purpose and fulfilled that need
So when the night is over and sun comes rising up my window pane
And gently pushes open her weary eyes…
And she says……
“Can we make every night like last night and we wake to each others morning smile?”
I look into her seductive and hypnotic joy-filled eyes
“No Need….But it was nice”
This poem is dedicated to
A young lady, 23 years old raped by gang in Delhi in India and died on the 13th day of her victimization. She sacrificed her life for change.
over the centuries degrading and humiliation is women's fate.
methodology of mentality brutalized to hide evidence at any rate.
time was running same, sun rises in the west and sets in the east,
torturing mankind, killing innocents, and raping poor as serving beast.
what was a day?
A rising sun fired anger, clouds thrown thorns, air pinched nails in hearts,
why is pain victimized me; ghosts are playing blindness and deafness of darts?
what rules; prominent justified a stylish woman inspired sex,to rape her wildly,
To open a show publicly, not to touch her;seeking justification of duties cowardly.
who can live in history?
but people still live as a woman statue is as a symbol of worship as God.
spirituality sounds inhuman methods to destroy intestine to rape with an iron rod.
no dog has bark or a beetle twinkled when a bleeded statue of God has thrown,
but a stone heart bouncing box pushed her on bed of a white crown.
who will mind her?
air stops to blow, death flooded strength and butterflies cried against shadows to glow,
but green-hoppers pulled up the barriers to secure white collar cows they run slow.
everyone listened roar of a lion; complains who disturbed his sleep,
moon is still there, stars disappeared why roaming in a field a sheep.
what do i need to do?
Birds are treeting in the jungle; fire is silent to burn a petal,
if wolves attacked on a lamb then why do they whisper against a beetle?
no need to change a statue of traditions that are serving justice from roots,
Discipline is not obeying an order no need to grow new shoots.
what is possible to do?
let them to cry for few days the tiredness will hide them under stones,
no need to change system for justice that will survive for Indian cripple bones.
lord Rama examined her wife and asked to justify her purity on a burning pile,
a woman has provocational nature we condemn her living a naked style.
what do we need to learn?
prevail a woman has cultural values; a man is worshiping God not for tradition's crash,
women is as shoe for a man; her wisdom is in ankles religion lightening golden flash.
but a victimized girl cried,' don't waste my sacrifice' save innocents to change a cruel dash.
never forgive them, punished them they are criminal and running a system for harsh.
As the beasts of this world
Continue pouring from their cup …
An angel from heaven delivers hope
On the wings of an eagle it comes
And the beasts of the earth bow in defeat
As the two-edge sword is revealed
The seal of God’s word is given and
There are two women, one pure and one un-pure
While the un-pure woman is corrupt
She is dressed in scarlet and her name …
Her name is Jezebel for she is a harlot
And she honors the serpent, not God
The pure woman is full of incense,She is ...
Israel, dressed in robes of white, garments of gold
For the sun shines brightly in her heart
And on her forehead is the kiss of God
The pure woman eats of the book daily
In reverence to her Lord
She delights in the gift the blood
Has given her, she is thankful
The stars sing out the triumph
And the sun shines forth in majesty
For Israel withstood the harvest
She looks to the Morning Star and rejoices in victory