Long Mei Poems
Long Mei Poems. Below are the most popular long Mei by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mei poems by poem length and keyword.
Mindfulness
Mindfulness is being in the moment, with the past
A dim memorial and the future ripe anticipation;
Without investment of self in uncertainty and “when I…”,
Just living life in the now.
I read the book of recipes and am drawn
Into its world of pungency, lost in imagined tastes;
And I linger at this altar of sensual delight,
And am mindful.
A glass of Riesling sits close by, cold, crisp,
With subtle oiliness hinting at future promise;
Its acidity bites at my tongue as I imagine
Lemons in Greece might do.
Fragrant prose makes my nose twitch, as though some
Herb, roughly chopped to embrace the warmth of spice,
Is thrown into the bubbling pot to lure the hungry,
And I think of you.
The spell of the moment is broken by your
Presence, uninvited and unwanted but irresistible,
An imagining, without form, that brings emptiness, longing,
The elements of grief.
Why do you do this, Madame, why do you
Not leave me to be at peace with my present?
Why do you intrude, when you have been silent
This long while?
I want to be with you, or rid of you;
There is no compromise, I cannot be an acquaintance;
There is no possibility of a hint of love, like
A hint of chilli.
I imagine inside your mind, where I have no
Place, no presence; I am forgotten, like a withered
Posy, whose scent is as dust and adds nothing
To our pleasure.
And I live in this moment, dissolved in
My emotions, swept up in thinking, and wonder
When it will end and you no longer disturb
My present.
The ascetic monk reminds me of the impermanence
Of all things, and the unhealthy possession you have
Of my thoughts and feelings, putting my happiness
at your command.
Miserere mei: soaring notes wash my mind clean, no
Thoughts or emotions can find space in this reverberant
Cathedral of penitence; transient music that lives forever,
Unlike that pure treble.
I am again mindful and you slip behind the
Curtain of music, an actor quitting the stage,
Your speech done, the plot carried forward
To its end.
The first time I met Mei Is Woe, I felt so badly, I begged our co-workers to give up a sick day in the sick day fund, not realizing they had done that so many times, it would not be an easy collection.
Our selfish co-workers flatly and adamantly refused to contribute to Mei Is Woe’s flower fund, even after I told them about her bursitis, lupus, and long time suffering boyfriend’s non re-election.
I wasn’t going to share this, I admitted, pulling out the big guns, because poor Mei asked me not to, but she’s out sick today, to straighten out her unfortunate drug-addicted relatives, who are anything but perfection.
Yes, completely honest Mei is Woe had nothing but trouble, and no matter how hard I begged, or how much she suffered, our co-workers seemed non-caring, and totally un-eager to help with my well-intended collections
Finally, In-the Know, another fairly new co-worker heard the “truth” as we like to say and said, Bill, you might as well give up, no one is going to contribute, and I tell you this with total love and affection.
I already knew it though, because I had spent the morning going room to room, and spoken to everybody, about my grave concerns for sweet, darling, forth-coming Mei’s well-being, and what we could do with good intentions.
Mei is Woe texted me at midnight last night that her long-suffering mother who had recently had a heart attack, was precariously close to death, and she needed cold hard cash, for her oven which was on the blink, convection.
Several insensitive colleagues howled with laughter upon hearing this news, sharing that Mei Is Woe’s mother had passed in ’84, ’91, and ’08 before they started writing down for what went the money collection.
Mei is Woe was eliminated from my phones after she abandoned me for a psychiatrist, who would not write a doctor’s excuse, but whisked her away from the world, possibly understanding Mei is Woe’s chronic affliction.
Mei-ricka’s in love
Her heart burns like a hot pistol
She’s got a ruby ring on her second finger,
to signify her sacred vow to her main squeeze
Amended her desires twice, vowing to remain faithful;
every morning and every night,
she promised to abide with her first love
Mei-ricka’s very much in love
Her lover is of such a high caliber pedigree
She loves the feel
of his wide barrel-chest hair trigger touch —
his cold, scuplted iron frame and hot lead ejection
Repeated heated moans
are lover cries which perforate the air
Their emptied bodies fall to the floor like spent shells
Mei-ricka’s forever in love
The residue of hot metal passion
falls like
melted sulfur snowflakes in her hair
Her favorite aphrodisiac
is a smoky, saltpeter mountain fragrance
blowing everywhere
Mei-ricka’s truly in love
She craves his smooth, silver skin love handles —
his cold steely attention and hot lead affection
Mei-ricka is smitten in love,
his multi-orgasmic chamber charms
gives her so much amorous bang for the buck
It’s a hot metal love affair —
so close range automatic
Mei-ricka loves the throbbing, vibrating sensations
of her erotic lover’s explosive splatter ...
It’s a hot metal love affair —
and she can’t gat get enough
Beyond the escarpment of love a 2nd hand rose thrives, trying not to die
the gardens are pregnant in bloom as Mei in her China gown asks why
the authentic sun shines both to burn the winding paths of languid lies
and to non-discriminate the swell of her pearls, this is her Dynasty cry
Stunning gardens giving birth, young brides and padded stoic grooms
happy gregarious music plays a Guangling melody of old while she enchants
the whispering winds, she tries not to think of her future as the hour slips
Typhoon Marge 1973, a wedding picture framed in white taken by the lot
but on this previous day not a stroke of wind not an ounce of water to mar
the union of two souls, beyond the crystal ball gazes of two young lovers
the sea is still untouched, no rain induced landslides yet, no slope terrain
A flood of emotions isolate Mei, the coastal flood fill her lungs
she is a deluge before a torrent of people who watch in quiet consent
This ceremonial ritual quadrant union breaks, as she makes her escape
no pre-arranged singling spot, just a rolling sea and the rise of her breast
sucking in air she runs, runs, runs, and runs, away from him .
I’m facing a challenge and I’m taking bets
That I can remember the names of my pets
There’s Tommy and Jonnie and Sally and Barry
The one over there I believe might be Harry
Tiddles and Wriggles and Bruno and Gerry
Never stray far from their bestest mate Terry
But Sue, Lou and Nancy, Alberto And Drew
Appear to be loners, a bit like Baloo
That crowd to one side hang around in a gang
But seem to be led by Mei Ling and Chang
Now, can I recall who the rest of them are
I’ll try but they all look the same from afar
Lee, James, Amanda, Frank, Annie and Les
Annabelle, Gilbert, Wilbert and Dez
Sonya, Sam, Lesley-Anne, Mary-Lou, Bess
Stephanie, Bethany, Cuthbert and Jess
Edward and Jedward, Samson and Ben
Zebedee, Gerry-Lee, Timothy, Jen
Josh, Tod and Spartacus, Abbie and Sid
Oliver, Gulliver, Billy the Kid
There’s Tyson and Dyson, and Eric and Jim
And Betty and Hetty, Jemima and Kim
I got them from someone who lives down the road
And carried them all to my humble abode
I needed no crate cos the breeder had bowls
He told me that’s how one should carry tadpoles
There is a poem in my heart,
that beats in different dialects.
Da ist ein Gedicht in meinem Herzen,
which flows freely through my veins.
Il y à un poème dans mon cœur,
that tickles the tip of my tongue.
Existe um poema no meu coração,
which dances with a million sighs.
Wo xinzhong, youyi shou shi,
that is suppressed by emotionless expression.
Mery dil mein bi aik nazam hai,
silent, as it cannot be heard through speech.
Jest wiersz w moim sercu,
unwritten, as it cannot be read through words.
Am o poezie in inima mea,
that hides behind a dynasty of lyrics.
Det er et dikt i mitt hjerte,
which only serenades internal chambers.
Yparxei ena poihma sthn kardia mou,
that conducts symphonies with my mind.
V moemy serzi jyve poezia,
which may never be understood.
Mei wor echo kèn non ngasangasei,
that whispers words for my beloved.
There is a poem in my heart,
because my heart is a poem.
The Silent One
25 April 2018
SPRING CHAP GOH MEI
Subtle spring fest as earth awakes,
Prompt thus the surge of vibrant feel;
Rich flavours nest in ample takes,
Intense the urge of nature's will;
Note how joy hurls such fragrant times,
Glimpses of grace moves fertile soil.
Calm vivid swirls accord warm chimes,
Here in clear trace busy hands toil;
Abide fond cheer wise touch of hope,
Peace spreads a glow of poignant truth.
Gain worthwhile spheres as love sculpts scope,
Observe the flow of visual truth;
Health now flings tints of blessings grand.
Meet precious voice in wholesome space,
Embrace bright spring that fashions trends;
Imprints of poise now syncs kind grace.
Leon Enriquez
26 February 2018
Singapore
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(Note: The words "Chap Goh Mei" is a
phrase in the Chinese dialect Hokkien,
and means "Fifteenth Night" of the 1st
Lunar month in Spring, when the
Chinese New Year begins.)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Where is the anger, wrath untold
For these young men that go to die,
In foreign fields where we behold,
Bright plumes of poppies where they lie.
Words can’t explain the tears that well,
For sons and brothers lost to life,
Too soon the ringing of that bell,
The rousing epitaph, the doleful fife.
And yet in youth there is no fear,
To follow bugles sounding proud,
The thought that death be quite so near
Drowned out by voices shouting loud.
Forward they go brothers in arms,
As if a wave breaking on the shore,
Courage undoubted, impervious to harm,
They follow destiny to history’s lonely lore.
For those that lived beyond the slaughter,
Their lives now changed for evermore,
Gone is the youth, the raucous laughter,
In a recurring nightmare of blood and gore.
Award posterity the wrongs of war,
Our solemn duty merely to remember,
All those brave souls that went before,
Their memory a bright everlasting ember.
I never thought of it for sure
As you made it sure
But one thing left out
And I don't know how it about
Even though
Search it to toe
I can't find it
On how I let you in mine mind
How I got your tind
And let u to mind
For thinking of you I don't mind
First when I saw u I turned loopy
Not booby
But bootilicious
Yours love so precious
Your voice when I heard
I turned off the contempts I had
But no just a moment baby
Think of it hubby.
For u are always in mine mind
For to loose u iwill mind
Yes I love you bt some with doubts
How do u manage with your beauts
To penetrate to me
But its OK
I will keep the promise mei
Cos I do remember
The way u hold me close grub and close
Soo close
I too do it to make our love kept
Mmmmhu when we meet
I do feel it to my feet
For am tied in yours hands
For their are my graves
For your love make me have craves.
By Otieno Elvis Gikoi
Lunar New Year brings blessings bright:
Affluence now cheers our spirits right.
Goodies galore with sure good health:
So much and more with ample wealth.
Time moves most brisk with bounty's range:
We live fine risk as fortunes change.
So much to do as plenty sums:
For me and you with grand outcomes.
The moon aglow this 15th day:
Valentine shows true lover's way.
Chap Goh Mei rhymes that Luna gaze:
Seek to court times in hearty maze.
Chinese New Year brings happy spring:
Here's to good cheer and precious things.
May all our dreams bring happy thoughts:
May love's fond streams bring healthy lots.
Live faith and hope as love seeds grace:
Work your grand scope with cheer you trace.
Leon Enriquez
11 February 2017
Singapore
(Note: 'Chap Goh Mei' means "15th Day" of
the lunar month in Hokkien, a Chinese dialect
with origins in Fujian province in China.)