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Best Poems Written by Miroslaw Eric Sulkowski

Below are the all-time best Miroslaw Eric Sulkowski poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Miroslaw Eric Sulkowski Poem

Time To Time

Time to time
Don’t know why,
Comes an urge 
To write some lines,
Thoughts are swirling 
in my mind,
Feelings spilling
From the heart,
Fuse and become
Words I pen,
Grow some wings
And only then,
I hope that they
Can really fly,
Reaching places
Low and high,
They’re not perfect 
But they’re true,
They’ll sink in
Or pass you by,
If  you stop
Just for a while,
Then my mission 
Is complete
I am truly satisfied

Details | Miroslaw Eric Sulkowski Poem

Antarctica

Antarctica (Ernest Shackleton tribute)

To your shores came as a pilgrim
Knowing that I wasn’t welcome
All I wanted was to walk
Across your land of ice and rock

But you trapped my ship in ice
Blew cold winds into my eyes
Wanted me to pay the price
Hardship’n’ pain did not suffice

I won’t give up! No, I won’t stop!
On the wings of faith and hope
Between sky and endless depth
I’ll walk the line of life and death

My chances aren’t of greatest height
To save the lives you tried to smite
You’ve gotta know I’m gonna fight
As it’s my duty and it's my right!

Details | Miroslaw Eric Sulkowski Poem

In My Life

There are places I remember
Some I used to call my home
Family house behind the curtain
Tiny hotel room in Rome

There are people that I met
Walking down the path of life
Meeting some I do regret
Many still walk alongside

There were moments in my life
Many I admit were hard
Gone with a blink of an eye
Some I cherish in my heart

All those moments and those places
People that  I know and knew
They’d lose meaning, color, flavor
If  in my life there was no YOU.

(Based on "In My Life" by The Beatles)

Details | Miroslaw Eric Sulkowski Poem

C'Est La Vie

Late 80s, Quebec, Ville de Lasalle,
A piece of my life, a piece of me,
I left behind;  Fait accompli.
What I miss most? Je ne sais quoi!
Cartoons! Lagaffe, Robin Dubois!
Bicycle rides with my good friends,
Next to the river, along the bends.
I left behind a piece of my life…

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Frost


Moisture solidified.
Tiny crystals have coated
twigs, bushes and fences.
Even my old beater
looks different, dignified.
A metamorphosis.
Grey obscurity has been turned
into a silver plated kingdom.
A wonderful but short-lived spectacle.
Soon it’ll vanish, but ‘till then 
it all seems so magical.
Again.

Details | Miroslaw Eric Sulkowski Poem

Shannon

I heard people talking
about her beauty
before even coming
to Ireland.

I went there to meet her,
she whispered to me,
but I just looked 
and stood silent.

I felt so minute
facing her splendor,
the ancient wisdom
I couldn’t dispute.

In wrinkled waters
I saw my reflection,
in her humble manner
with no imperfection.

From pebbles to poets
so many have loved her,
I also do miss her;
the true Irish princess.

Details | Miroslaw Eric Sulkowski Poem

Halfway Down the Road

Having passed the midpoint, I came to a stall.
The known half’s behind me, the future ain’t clear,
all those years gone shifting, from gear to gear.
No U-turns allowed, one way gotta roll,
can not pull the same old tricks, thrills and spills an’ all.
What was distant now seems near
halfway down the road.

Details | Miroslaw Eric Sulkowski Poem

Baby Please Don'T Cry

The sun retreats, rain falls from the sky
when I see you cry my baby.
Baby please don’t cry!

Guardian angel bites his lips, standing silent nearby
when I see you cry my baby.
Baby please don’t cry!

I will take your pain away, want to make it my
if you do not cry my baby.
Baby please don’t cry!

Details | Miroslaw Eric Sulkowski Poem

Gabi

Gabi wakes up with a frown,
Gabi drags her feet around,

Gabi’s room’s a real mess,
Gabi cannot find her dress,

Gabi’s lost most of her toys,
Gabi has a squeaky voice,

Gabi’s homework may look shabby,
I cannot live without Gabi.

Details | Miroslaw Eric Sulkowski Poem

Old Pepper Grinder

Old wooden pepper grinder’s
thinking of the past.
Dreaming ‘bout its days of glory,
now collecting dust.

It’s got stories, it’s got wisdom
but no one’s there to listen.
It’s feeling rusty, useless and lonely 
somewhere in the kitchen.

Wanting to retell old anecdotes,
 just to be taken into warm hands.
Instead Alzheimer’ s at the door,
saying he wants to be friends.

Old wooden pepper grinder’s
thinking of the past.
Praying to be used again 
before the journey’s end.