My Grannio
I never thought I would have to say GOODBYE to my best friend? But that's what I had to do today I had to let go of her forever -
There was no other way For me to face reality Or pretend to be okay I had no concept -
Of how hard it would be To actually let go Of this huge part of me? Not tomorrow or ever -
Will my life be the same Without my Grannio here Life seems to be a game - Of chance and questions?
Questions that never end And have no answers That can begin to mend The gaping hole inside of me
Nor come close to healing My heart and soul that Seem to be feeling Lost, numb and empty-
Completely hollow? Like I have nobody left To really follow - Through life with respect
She was so much more Than my Grandmother I knew that before She left this earth
And I told her so More than once or twice Because she had to know Just how very special -
And truly blessed I felt to have her as my friend She was the best Without a doubt -
My Grannio gave me More than anybody Will ever really see? It was an unspoken -
Kind of love That came with no conditions And went far above The normal caring
And average support For a grandchild - Or family of any sort She gave more of herself
To me than anyone In my life ever will Nobody could have done What she did for me
With so much devotion, Absolute honesty And true emotion? Her loyalty was -
Sincerely undying I realize so much Now that I'm crying - And wishing that
I had just one more day To spend holding her hand And trying to take away Her fears and her pain -
That took over her Body and her mind Like never before? In our lives -
I would have sincerely Given 20 years of my life To have her merely Be here tomorrow -
I cannot explain The way I feel today Or how much I pain Is inside of me -
That will never go away No matter how much time passes I know this ache will stay With me forever?
Just as her special touch Will always be with me And mean so very much - To me and my son?
Jakob Thomas Her "BabyDoll" And I promise To never forget -
What she would have done If she was still here For him - her only one Great-grandchild?
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An Old Wood Pile [a poem with notes]
Old skin, once held tightAgainst her skeleton-Rose no more, just drapedLoosely over unpadded flesh;Un-tightened muscles, and tissue,Lost its courage, no-fortitude-,Gone are the days and yearsThat stood against the Indomitable elements; The skeleton, now a landmarkHidden under flesh and bloodGuts and moral fiber, backbone?Collapsed from drudgeryTime, time: cascading inside-.Bones now leaving impressionsAccepting fateLike tarnished silver!.
Two Poems: Black Poncho, and Spirits of de Copan [in English and Spanish]
English Version12) Black Poncho(of Saint Cosme Hill, by Lima, Peru)Lost in the grottos of Peru-By the hills of HuancayoBlack Poncho was given A treasure of gold?;By none other than, Demonic goblins!?in the form of scorching fruit;Hence, Black Poncho fooled The goblins of oldBy using his poncho to pullThe sizzling golden fruitThrough the Andes to Lima, Peru!?Henceforward, he was swindledBy a jeweler of dire repute.Thus, his life changed (as so often they do);And now he lives with:Thirty-five dogs, on San Cosme Hill.
Biography of Charlotte Bronte
Charlotte Bronte (1816 -1855) Novelist and Poet.Charlotte was the daughter of the Rev.
Commuting Hell!
It's dark, it's cold, its' just six thirty,thoughts of sleep still dull my brain,As I huddle down, inside my coat,a commuter clone, just waiting for a train.Insidious rain, just drizzling down,through weak light of creeping dawn,Paper sandwich bags and old coffee cups,blowing past, look so forlorn.
Man Unbowed [A poem]
Man UnbowedUnbowed by sin, the world of man, standsUpon his feet he gapes into the sky,The indifference of centuries within his eyes,And in his heart the curse of the old world.Who made him dead to love and God?A thing that breathes only for wants and needs,With a lack of emotion, a brother to the fox?Who tightened and pushed up his jagged brow?(To make him look so grand, so proud-so tall.
Ive Learned
You cannot make someone love you. All you can do is be someone who can be loved.
Four Poems: Grendels Nature...the Racetrack...Counting days...[Now in English and Spanish]
English Version1) Grendel's DivorceYou must know that I do not hateAnd that I hate you,Because everything dead has twoSides;A sound is one arm of the quiet,Ice has its warm half.I hate you in order to start hating youTo begin life againAnd never to stop hating you:That is why I do not hate you yet.
Three Poems: The Monkey Man of Lima, Plus Two More
What Hides behind the Minute?What hides behind the minute?It seems, no one really knows;How many times will we wakeup,To count the minutes gone?The rose was dead when I arrived;The sword, was rusty and dull;The window curtain was open,And there was music in the hall.Oh lovely minute, where art thou?One, is not like the other-:Whirling in an earthly orbit,As the boundless world discovers.
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To many people contemporary poetry is a turn-off. The reason for this is that the majority of these poems are boring.
Why I enjoy Writing?
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Poetry "Reborn" Emerges In Thriller Mystery Novel
Since Mohamed Ali-then Cassius Clay-announced that he had written "The world's shortest poem," I have known that I would be a poet. "ME? WHEE!" His triumphant proclamation evoking shivers within my troubled teenaged identity, for I reasoned in rhyme.
A Dose of Laughter
I'm not well. Can't you tell? Kinda low, so,give me a dose of laughter.
Antidotes for an Alibi
Amy King's first full-length collection, Antidotes for an Alibi, insists that we examine the deceptive clarity of our actions and the goals that motivate us. How does one actually get from "A" to "B"-and is there ever really a "B"? What color is the white space between "A" and "B"? Upon closer inspection, surface realities reveal themselves to be porous and fragile, layered with textures and grains that lead the eye on varying pathways.
Famous Poets Quotations - Top 30 Poetry Quotations by Famous Poets
"For this reason poetry is something more philosophical and more worthy of serious attention than history."-- Aristotle"Every American poet feels that the whole responsibility for contemporary poetry has fallen upon his shoulders, that he is a literary aristocracy of one.
Three Poems: Phantom of the Rocks; Lady from Lima & Bell Ringer of de Copan
Phantom of the Rocks[Huancayo, Peru]Night falls deepUpon the traveler!Low, over the AndesBy Huancayo-;They know a legend,Not of this earth,Where evil lurks(Over Palla-Huarcuan!..
Three Sweet Poems, and Two Not So Sweet [now in: SPANISH and English]
1) End PoemWherever you are today-Is where you were meant to be;It's where God, dotted the'i' and the 't'?!2) God's AngelsGod asked his angels:"Why do you look so sad?"Responded one angel:"Sir, we can't find the shade."3) An Empty SpaceOut of wisdom one will wait,travel far for love; the thirstwill not kill them.
San Francisco [Almost a Sonnet]
(The city by the bay of Northern California, near which the Pacific Ocean resides; the year is 1967)Mid October seemed like some spring day,When through the poised waters, dry as lead, The ferry, like vague shadows that stand the dead,Slipped down the curved coast of Frisco bay,Rounded the Golden Gate,-and San Francisco lay,Before me, that gay city, pink and red,Hippies covered Haigh Asbury's homeless head,-My home, to be, I found stirring and grey.The waves busted on the wooden-sides; fishermenNearby with long necks, looked and cast again.
Africa
AFRICA(to africans in diaspora)africa here i come, africaafrica of the black soul the soul of an ancient culture the culture of your timid tribes.its your voice i hear africa your voice of the talking drumsyour beaded drums and the royal trumpeterthe metal gong of your town crieri have come to see your music dance i have heard of your ageless minstrelshave i not heard of your swinging hips!i have heard enough and have come to watchwouldn't you dance for me africaafrica here i come africa would you not show me to your tribesthe timid tribes of your sweetened tongues the varied tongues of your virtuous menafrica, black soul africa tell me about your gods your gods of the sky and of the mother earthyour gods of the hills and of the rivers aboundshow me to your kings africayour kings of the ancient dynastythe ancient dynasty of rusted spear and shieldafrica, here i come africaHEAVENLY GUESTheavenly guest heralding thunderously in its own awakepelting on men as well, the godsgathering itself drop by drop.
Tsunami -a Poem Dedicated To Help Aid and Awareness and Encourage Future Harmony. Make Peace Not War
Real Power.One Tsunami, and all our armies,Seem belittled by their wars,What Animals fled, and tribesmen read,Finally Arrives with crushing roar,Wholesale slaughter, purely by water,Makes us seem an irrelevance,Concepts of power, change by the hour,Faced with primal elements.
Sleep, Dreams, and a Poem
The Incubus' Flash-lightHe looked inside my headAnd found a dreamHe didn't like-;As I looked back at him,I found an incubus Shinning a light(and stole this poem fromhim-last night).Thoughts: Dreams and Poetry: in dreams we let go of our inhibitions; in poetry we write them back out.
