A Lovers' Quarrel
We two were lovers, the Sea and I;
We plighted our troth ‘neath a summer sky.
And all through the riotous ardent weather
We dreamed, and loved, and rejoiced together.
* * *
At times my lover would rage and storm.
I said: ‘No matter, his heart is warm.’
Whatever his humour, I loved his ways,
Being Old: The Advantages And Disadvantages....... [(See The Title): Long; Personal? ; Humour? ]
For my poems, my friend Valsa George has a hunger.
She’s over fifty, but, compared to me, she is younger.
She suggested I write about ‘the advantages of being old’.
It’s a challenge, but, Valsa, on this idea you have sold......
me.
I – The Advantages
Retirement income though you’re done working.
[Why, now, are some of you readers smirking? ]
A Character
How often do I wish I were
What people call a character;
A ripe and cherubic old chappie
Who lives to make his fellows happy;
With in his eyes a merry twinkle,
And round his lips a laughing wrinkle;
Who radiating hope and cheer
Grows kindlier with every year.
For this ideal let me strive,
And keep the lad in me alive;
Wonderful Man (Inspired By Maya Angelou's Great Poem 'phenomenal Woman')
Handsome man ponder at my masculine size.
I'm not huge or toned to appeal to the judges eyes,
but when I begin to tell them
they think I'm telling lies.
I say,
it's in the heat of my endurance,
the sweat on my neck,
the direction of my stride,
and the strength of my pecks
I'm a man
Galaxy Of Poetry
On that dark night when I was not able to sleep
When I wanted to escape from this earth
to a different galaxy.. I flew high and landed in this galaxy of poetry
Where I am happy and more satisfied than ever before
I saw lots of glittering and shooting stars
Illuminating my Darkest night
Some are glowing like sun and rendering
warmth to brighten my day
Each one is unique in their writings
The wonderful poets who cherish my life
Drinking Song, On The Excellence Of Burgundy Wine
My jolly fat host with your face all a-grin,
Come, open the door to us, let us come in.
A score of stout fellows who think it no sin
If they toast till they're hoarse, and drink till they spin,
Hoofed it amain
Rain or no rain,
To crack your old jokes, and your bottle to drain.
Such a warmth in the belly that nectar begets
As soon as his guts with its humour he wets,
Waking In The Blue
The night attendant, a B.U. sophomore,
rouses from the mare's-nest of his drowsy head
propped on The Meaning of Meaning.
He catwalks down our corridor.
Azure day
makes my agonized blue window bleaker.
Crows maunder on the petrified fairway.
Absence! My hearts grows tense
as though a harpoon were sparring for the kill.
(This is the house for the "mentally ill.")
The White Man's Burden
Take up the White man's burden --
Send forth the best ye breed --
Go bind your sons to exile
To serve your captives' need;
To wait in heavy harness
On fluttered folk and wild --
Your new-caught, sullen peoples,
Half devil and half child.
Take up the White Man's burden --
A Luminous Butterfly
I.
Wonder winged luminous in my eyes.
Elegance sheer I perceive and prize
On a flower who plays the sun of skies.
What psyche fair in colours does rise
In flight of swerve and curve amid ease?
It my eyes trail wherever to please
Me to relish harmony it frees
Through me as my heart awes in its choice.
My heart sings of its hush to rejoice
Epistle Ii: To A Lady (Of The Characters Of Women )
NOTHING so true as what you once let fall,
"Most Women have no Characters at all."
Matter too soft a lasting mark to bear,
And best distinguish'd by black, brown, or fair.
How many pictures of one Nymph we view,
All how unlike each other, all how true!
Arcadia's Countess, here, in ermin'd pride,
Is, there, Pastora by a fountain side.
Here Fannia, leering on her own good man,
My Strength
MY STRENGTH
What is in life, so great?
Hard times arrive to hurt
with no notice prior.
Fortunes...ah so promiscuous,
flirt awhile and disappear!
Lo, this is life,
full of strain, struggle and strife!
'Poetic Pizza' Pieces For Poemhunter Pals....[fantasy Poem/Pizza Creation; Personal]
Kanav Justa suggested I share my pizza with PoemHunter friends,
but I’ve found, when trying to send real pizza, my wife’s computer bends.
So you PoemHunter friends will have to settle for.... slices of my thoughts.
You’ll have to settle for “Poetic Pizza” Pieces my mind and pen have wrought.
Instead of dough for its foundation, I use what I see and hear and think.
Instead of an oven for baking, I bake on notebook pages (or paper scraps) with ink.
Instead of tomato or pesto sauce I spread a layer of imagination and/or knowledge.
The Idiot Boy
'Tis eight o'clock,--a clear March night,
The moon is up,--the sky is blue,
The owlet, in the moonlight air,
Shouts from nobody knows where;
He lengthens out his lonely shout,
Halloo! halloo! a long halloo!
--Why bustle thus about your door,
What means this bustle, Betty Foy?
Why are you in this mighty fret?
Joint Laughter
We laugh at the same funny things,
Our quick sense of humour just springs
From being together,
Whatever the weather,
It's wonderful what such laughter brings.
We can each see the funny side, that's true,
But of course we can sometimes be blue,
But if one of us is down,
Then the others a clown
Self-Love
He that cannot choose but love,
And strives against it still,
Never shall my fancy move,
For he loves 'gainst his will;
Nor he which is all his own,
And can at pleasure choose,
When I am caught he can be gone,
And when he list refuse.
Nor he that loves none but fair,
For such by all are sought;
Is It Humour?
Everybody say I'm down to earth.
My explanation.
Miss Gravity works at my place.
The Laughing Stars
He lives deep inside himself with burnt out emotions,
He can stll hear his piercing scream's,
When he had a bad fall from a horse in a race,
That ended all his dream's,
His chance gone at becoming top jockey,
He clung desperately onto his fading career,
But the ugly truth has taken hold,
He is stalked by fear.
Sonnet 91: Some Glory In Their Birth, Some In Their Skill
Some glory in their birth, some in their skill,
Some in their wealth, some in their body's force,
Some in their garments though new-fangled ill,
Some in their hawks and hounds, some in their horse;
And every humour hath his adjunct pleasure,
Wherein it finds a joy above the rest,
But these particulars are not my measure;
All these I better in one general best.
Thy love is better than high birth to me,
Richer than wealth, prouder than garments' costs,
Missed Opportunities
Once opportunity missed means gone out of hand
Work remains undone as promised by friend
They are all missed and gone forever,
Will not come back again and lost for ever
Have you ever tried for bright carrier and success?
Constant thrust and work without any recess,
New avenues, areas and seeking complete access,
With calculated move without making excess,
An American
The American Spirit speaks:
"If the Led Striker call it a strike,
Or the papers call it a war,
They know not much what I am like,
Nor what he is, my Avatar."
Through many roads, by me possessed,
He shambles forth in cosmic guise;