Monday, 20 May 2024, 09:07:35
Welcome Guest

POems & More

« 1 2 ... 23 24 25 26 »
 
Extract (LIfe and Death)

"Well, there were two sisters who lived in a place called Mandouro. They lived on their own, in a bungalow left to them by their parents. From the house you could see the sea and all the ships leaving Europe bound for the South Seas. One sister was Life and the other, Death. They were two good girls, a pleasure to look at and be with."

"The one called Death was pretty as well?" Dombodán asked with concern.

"She was. Well, she was pretty, if a bit horse-like. The ... Read more »
Views: 615 | Added by: dariifly | Date: 18 January 2010 | Comments (0)

The big heart

Big heart,
wide as a watermelon,
but
wise as birth,
there is so much abundance
in the people I have:
Max, Lois, Joe, Louise,
Joan, Marie, Dawn,
Arlene, Father Dunne,
and all in their short lives
give to me repeatedly,
in the way the sea
places its many fingers on the shore,
again and again
and they know me,
they help me unravel,
they listen with ears made of conch shells,
they speak back with the wine of the best region.
They are my staff.
They comfort me.

They hear how
the artery of my soul has been severed
and soul is spurting out upon them,
bleeding ... Read more »
Views: 589 | Added by: dariifly | Date: 18 January 2010 | Comments (0)

The best poem of Humanity

At Saint Simon´s chapel I took my seat
and was caught by the waves, how tall they seem
I was waiting for my friend! Will he come?

At the chapel before the altar-stone
I was caught by the waves, they seem to grow.
I was waiting for my friend! Will he come?

And was caught by the waves, how tall they seem
I have no boatman to row for me.
I was waiting for my friend! Will he come?

And was caught by the waves, the sea bellow,
I have no boatman, nor know how to row.
I was waiting for my friend! Will he come?

I have no boatman to row for me,
fair maid I shall die on the open sea.
I was waiting for my friend! Will he come?

I have no boatman, nor know how to row,
fa ... Read more »
Views: 1329 | Added by: dariifly | Date: 16 January 2010 | Comments (0)

The Three Wise Kings (English)

My name is Kaspar. I the incense bear.
The glamour of the Star has made me wise.
I say that love is vaster than the skies.
And God exits. And Life is pure and fair.
-My name is Melchior. And my myrrh scents all. There is God. He is the light of morn.
The fairest blossoms from the dust are born,
And joy is shadowed by a threatful pall.

-My name is Balthasar. I bring a wreath
Of Orient gold, my gift. I come to say
That God exists. I know all by the ray
Of starry light upon the crown of Death.
Views: 568 | Added by: dariifly | Date: 16 January 2010

Rhyme LIII. The dark-winged swallows will return...
(English)

The dark-winged swallows will return
to hang their nests beneath your eaves,
and before your windows once again
beckon with their wings;

but those whose flight restrained
your beauty and my joy to learn,
those who came to know our names...
those...will not return!

The twining honeysuckles will return
your garden walls to climb
and on another afternoon, more lovely still,
again their flowers will bloom;

but those with sparkling drops of dew,
which we'd watch trembling, yearn
and fall, like teardrops of the day...
those...will not return!

From love will come once more the sound
of burning words to ring;
your heart from within its soundest sleep
perhaps will rise again;

but mute, entranced and kneeling down
as a ... Read more »

Views: 391 | Added by: dariifly | Date: 14 January 2010

The Separate Rose:

Today is that day, the day that carried
a desperate light that since has died.
Don’t let the squatters know:
let’s keep it all between us,
day, between your bell
and my secret.

Today is dead winter in the forgotten land
that comes to visit me, with a cross on the map
and a volcano in the snow, to return to me,
to return again the water
fallen on the roof of my childhood.
Today when the sun began with its shafts
to tell the story, so clear, so old,
the slanting rain fell like a sword,
the rain my hard heart welcomes.

You, my love, still asleep in August,
my queen, my woman, my vastness, my geography
kiss of mud, the carbon-coated zither,
you, vestment of my persistent song,
today you are reborn again and with the sky’s
black water confuse me and ... Read more »
Views: 558 | Added by: dariifly | Date: 13 January 2010