Best Tu Poems
Tu Requerdo
Tus ojos se me clavan en mi mente,
y tu requerdo no lo puedo olvidar.
Porque te atravesaste en mi camino?
Porque no te seguiste? Porque me
conociste?
Veniste a mi y me enamoraste, y luego
me dejaste. Aveses pienso que fue un sueno,
que nunca me quisiste, porque nunca exististe.
Aun tu requerdo lo llevo aqui en mi mente y
muy dentro de mi corazon. Tu imagen la llevo
en mi mente bien grabada, que por mas que
trato, no la puedo borrar....
Your Memory
Your eyes are stuck in my mind and your memory,
I can't forget.
Why did you have to cross my path? Why didn't you
just keep on walking? Why did you have to meet me?
You came to my life and seduced me and then you left
me. Sometimes I think - it was only a dream, that you
never really loved me, because you never really existed.
Your memory I will take with me, in my mind and very
deep in my heart. Your image has been engraved very
deep in my mind, that as much as I tried - it can not be
erased...
06/13/2014
By Lucilla M. Carrillo
He promised me i would not die
As I’d been forced to live
He promised me I would not cry
And his heart he would give
And now its summed up in a sigh
The sorrow and the pain
No more will I be placed on high
Just caught up in a game
A game that is so deadly
It leaves you mortified
And that’s when you realise
There’s nowhere left to hide
Then they kill you with the rumours
And beat you with the lies
There's nowhere left to run now
You're not wanted when love dies.
After all the waiting
So loyal was my love
All I’ve been is just a fool
Sent from up above.
I once thought i was special
But they’ve destroyed that thought
Now I feel like nothing
For everyone’s been bought
Toe to toe, with you I'll be,
Face to face so we can see.
"What are feet?"
"A foot is something we walk on. Another foot is the other one."
"A foot is twelve?"
"Know, twelve is the step between them. Eleven and thirteen are the feet."
Twelve is you? Know twelve is Me.
Squared I am, when I call us We.
h(Ours) as day, are six We be,
And Hendaye say, ADD zero you see.
Seven days in a week is Me.
Toe to Toe two dance as We.
Half the clock, six to nine is three.
"How many sides to a pyramid"
~"How many voices in my head?"
"How many digits on three blind mice"
~"How many players to roll the dice..."
A pyramids faces are four...
"Again!" cried the Wind, "there is one more."
A square is four, replied Again,
As Echo bellowed from the den,
"Another!" sings the Dragon Wen,
"Our Layer the Earth, be counted then."
Twelve is you? Know twelve is Me.
Squared I am, when I call us We.
12 squred = 144
Toe to Toe= 441 (21 squared)
144 + 441 = 585
"How many sides to appear amid...?"
Five, properly as we count the Land.
Eight lines around, brother sister in hand.
Five points shine One, to love again.
Half the clock, six to nine is three.
A B C D E F G....H i
13 x 1 = 13
13 x 2 = 26
13 x 3 = 39
13 x 4 = 52
13 x 5 = 65
13 x 6 = 78
13 x 7 = 91
13 x 8 = 104
13 x 9 = 117 +
=============
sum.......585 = Venus daze.
Prem
Mhanje!!!!
Prem Mhanje
Tujhaa
Massage,
Prem
Mhanje
Majha
Phone..
Prem Mhanje
Ratra Vedi,
Prem Mhanje
Vede Done..
Prem
Mhanje!!!
Prem Mhanje
Tujha Aavaaj,
Prem Mhanje
Tujh Hashna..
Prem Mhanje
Tujh Ashna,
Prem Mhanje
Rushna..
Prem
Mhanje!!!!
Prem Mhanje
"Bol Na"!!
Prem Mhanje
"Kay Bolu"??
Prem Mhanje
"Mahit Nahi"
Prem Mhanje
"Khich
Nahi"!!!
Prem
Mhanje!!!
Prem Mhanje
Mujhe
Prashna??
Prem Mhanje
Tujhe
Prashna??
Prem
Mhanaje
Uttar Asna...
Prem Mhanje
Shabd
Nasna....
'Tu me manques'
Doesn't mean
'I miss you',
As such.
Translated, it's
Something
Far more poetic,
More like
'You are missing from me'.
Tu me manques.
You are an
Essential part of
My body, my soul;
Without you I am
Incomplete.
Suddenly, French makes
A lot more sense
To me.
I came I saw I conquered you blundered
A ballerina's tutu,
Should be called a four,
Unless she's wearing two tutus,
And then it's even more.
sooth said to Caesar
sire beware the Ides of March-
assassins martyr'd
Chahat main sambhlnay ka karina to sikha do,
Mushkil main bohat hoon zara jeena to sikha do,
Kiyoun chand say chehray pay baysakoni ki fiza hai
Ankhoon main chupi pyaas ko peena to sikha do,
Main sham dhalay aoon darwazay ko khula rakhna,
Dahleez pay bhi shama ko pighalna to sikha do,
Zakhmoon pe marham rakh ky kuch der to behlao,
Aur daman main howay chhedo’n* ko sena to sikha do..
(chhedo’n;holes)
Shabeeb Hashmi
What makes you human without your limbs,
Human without your nose and toes –
What makes you human without your ears
Makes the unborn me human without your form.
Yes, it’s my essence, not form, which counts:
Be not liberal in defining gender yet conservative
in defining life.
By one sentence do mass killings in the world
and womb begin:
“They don’t look like us and don’t act like us:
they’re not human.”
Today, I heard hushed voices say so – then
came a sharp pain.
How I wished sweet mum or the doctor would
come:
I little knew they were here and directed the attack.
“Et tu, mama? Et tu, doctor?” Dying words, I uttered.
“Your life is not good for ours,” they said.
Out of my cradle they forced me and whisked me
past the world into the grave.
“It’s my body, my choices,” I heard mum say.
Yet I challenge not what she does with her body but
with mine:
It’s “my body, my choices” after all, in this her world.
My flesh is aborted but not my voice; lend it your lips,
for mine are gone.
Then, perhaps, the unborn shall like the dead rest in
peace some day:
Not belittled, not assaulted, but shielded with concrete
and taboos…
Behind me gut microbes swarm and play where side
by side we formerly lay.
Now mum’s cuddly flesh they enjoy better than me --
They must think they’re her babies and me the
intruder.
Agricola……
so started Gaius Caesar’s last assault
a farmer, who we hated by default
for Latin somehow came to rule our world
as meanings of declension slow unfurled
Thus, were we tossed into the forum’s pit
to grapple with the words and how they fit
to stand alone before the silenced crowd
to read our mock translations, mumbling loud
as he, with leaders of judgement’s phalanx
resembled pirates as we walked the plankx
plunged into the ablatives and datives
for none can speak a language as the natives
and so we settled for our Cee’s and Dee’s
as Gaius Caesar brought us to our knees
for laughter accompanied declension
followed by a visit to detention
©2/10/2022
Latin Lessons Poetry Contest
Raat guzray gi tu rakh layna bharam ajj kay baad
Hum na ayen gay kabhi shehar main teray ajj kay baad
Woh teray sheroon aur gazloon main mera khoo sa jana
Ab na parh payen gay dewan teray ajj kay baad,
Mujh ko lafzoon main saja kay jo kabhi likhy thay
Honthoon pay woh geet na ayen gay teray ajj kay baad
Sham aye gi tu pher chand bhi batlay ga hamain
Woh na jhankay ga kbhi ghar main teray ajj kay baad.
Tu me manques
let me
pour my longing
into my poem
“tu me manques”
and
let it fly
to you
into
your dream
and touch
your exhaustive sleep
hope
the changing seasons
will spin
its colour
and
let it
embedded in your mind
like
a seed that sow
in the depth of soil
my poem
“ tu me manques”
Will always be there
and
I wonder
how it is
when
my words
kiss the heart i miss
“tu me manques”
(c) Sukmawati Komala
~Jan 2014~
Tu le fera, n’est-ce pas, Papa ? – Translation of Kevin Gilbert’s « Won’t you, Dad ? » by T. Wignesan
Si toutes les jolies mélodies
de ce monde eussent été chantées
et toutes les chefs d’œuvres des maîtres
fussent être exhibées dans des meilleurs galléries
et toutes les statues de David et
les poèmes et autres œuvres de l’Homme
eussent été mis à feu pour la joie de la Mort
partout dans le monde,
un petit enfant me regarda et en souriant
et en étant tout fier rempli de l’amour et de la joie
et il dis : «’Tu ne laissera pas qu’on explose la bombe
sur ma tête, Papa. Tu les empêchera, n’est-ce pas, Papa ?’
Son signe d’interrogation
c’était comme un arque entouré
des flammes
Je lui répondis en toute confiance :
‘Nous les empêcherons, mon enfant.’
Mais, dans mon cœur, j’ai peur et l’honte me consume
de faites je PAYE l’HOMME
pour fabriquer la BOMBE
Je lui donne de l’IMPOT pour chanter
sa chanson d’haine
Je tiens le chien de guerre en laisse
Je l’aide à éprouver la haine et la faire croître
Je PAYE l’HOMME pour fabriquer la bombe
pour garder le monde et mon enfant dans la peur
Je ferme mon cœur aux autres êtres humains
comme s’était j’avais peur
quand l’amour est en train de m’approcher
C’est MOI qui suis en faute
c’est MOI qui fais bruler la chanson
c’est moi qui fera bruler la jolie mélodie
parce que j‘ai peur que d’autres humains près de moi
peuvent d’une manière ou l’autre me faire remplir d’amour
la flamme se chauffera et fera fondre les yeux
de mes enfants en train de me regarder
et demander aujourd’hui avec amour
et confiance en moi :
‘Tu les empêcheras de faire tomber la bombe sur moi,
n’est-ce pas, Papa ?’
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2016
Woe to thee with a trait of jealousy,
spewing forth words of exaltation,
filled with self-righteous indignation.
Thy tongue reproves your own decree.
Thy nature be that of a hypocrite...
with one hand thy offer a pat on the head
with the other, a knife till victim lay dead
With thy dagger you stab and you hit.
So misguided Brutus, you have become,
whose deed was done to a Julius-like one.
Were you thus when Senate had begun?
What led thee to the darkness succumb?
And whence you see the baneful flaw of your ways
You whilst then know you earned blame, not praise.