Princealexander's poems

Previously published by me ( as all other my English poetry ) on other sites under the name princeAlexander / princealexander .
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The mystic secret of the night
Embraces us and holds us tight
In its evasive grip of freak,
Which treats one's life with danger's trick.

Night wears covers of the dark,
Full of adventures to embark
On scary trip, set by the fate,
To risky pleasures we await.

We step, we dive into the night
To lose what holds us at day light,
To free dark corners of the soul,
To shut the conscience and control.

And every face looks like a mask,
Face painted by the dusk to bask.
But may be really night reveals
The truth of us, which day conceals ?
===========================
© Copyright: Принцалександр, 2013
Свидетельство о публикации №113060806539
www dot stihi dot ru/2013/06/08/6539

Previously published by me ( as all other my English poetry ) on other sites under the name princeAlexander / princealexander .
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We are naked and alone, being not willfully born,

And we are also alone when we die.

And the same in between, every year on and on

No matter do laugh we or cry.


How can I expect that I'll be understood

By your mind or by instinct of yours,

When myself I feel lost in emotional wood,

Where I am walking alone like a ghost.


Where my jealousy fights with my faith and my trust,

Where one part of me hopes that you love me in me, but another so painfully screams,

That I'm just a placeholder in the world of your dreams,

Unfulfilled by someone in your past !


When our bodies together are blending in one,

Are you thinking of him, while keep holding me tight,

Giving kindly to me what is his by his right,

Who escaped from your hands on the run ?

===========================
© Copyright: Принцалександр, 2013
Свидетельство о публикации №113060709394
www dot stihi dot ru/2013/06/07/9394

Previously published by me ( as all other my English poetry ) on other sites under the name princeAlexander / princealexander .
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When childhood comes back again

Through the window of your fast life train,

Just before it will reach final stop

Open the window, let your childhood hop

Into the cabin where loneliness dwells

As your only companion on rails.


Let your childhood take you by the hand

Trusting you as you've trusted your dad.

Take a journey together back to the past

Into times where hours could last,

Into times where days were so long,

Into innocent times where nothing was wrong.


When childhood comes back your way

Don't push it away, let it stay, let it play.

Let it share its secrets and dreams

While its head to your head softly leans.

Let it be your true loyal friend,

Let it stay in your life to the end.

===========================
© Copyright: Принцалександр, 2013
Свидетельство о публикации №113060806426
www dot stihi dot ru/2013/06/08/6426

Previously published by me ( as all other my English poetry ) on other sites under the name princeAlexander / princealexander .
------

I'm in love with Juanita

From El Paso country song ...

Kiss me stronger, senorita,

Make my memories be gone.


To forget the northern beauty,

Who's cold heart is made of stone,

Kiss me stronger, Spanish cutie,

Give me love I missed so long.


Brown eyes so warm and tender,

Margaritaville from blender

Makes it easy to surrender,

Borrowing love from lovely lender.


Do not check my credit rating,

- I am all anticipating ...

Give me love that I am awaiting,

Make my loneliness abating!


Rambling rose from Spanish garden,

Do not let my heart to harden.

Harden only what can please,

- I am down on my knees.


I'm in love with Juanita

From El Paso country song ...

Kiss me stronger, senorita,

Make my memories be gone.

===========================
© Copyright: Принцалександр, 2013
Свидетельство о публикации №113060907159
www dot stihi dot ru/2013/06/09/7159

Previously published by me ( as all other my English poetry ) on other sites under the name princeAlexander / princealexander .
-------
The love in poetry or poetry in love,
Which one is my forte I don^t really know ...
Or both or none of the above,
Or something in between ... and there in between I go.


On certain mornings I awake being sick
With certain sweet disease that has no other cure,
Than trying to come up with words, which in my heart would stick,
Such words, which are in sync with feelings I indeed endure.


And when I find those words, my rage goes away,
Transferring into poetry so utterly contagious,
Infecting those who read - and that what makes my day,
Rewarding efforts, humble, yet enormously courageous.
===========================
© Copyright: Принцалександр, 2013
Свидетельство о публикации №113061308903
www dot stihi dot ru/2013/06/13/8903

I like the idea that the night reveals what the day conceals at the end although I am confused why this is a "mystic" secret.

I have merged your 5 poems into 1 thread Princealexander. Please post your poems in this thread, this really is the best way, and not in separate threads as mentioned here:

http://www.online-literature.com/for...-your-poems***

"Brief rhymed reviews for selected books"

Othello by William Shakespeare

The white on black, the black on white
Explosive mix it makes, so easy to ignite
By jealousy venom, inserted drop by drop into suspicious mind,
And vicious fantasies force fatal spring of hate to wind.
And there you go ... flame of rage
Burns out lives, while getting out of its mental cage.
In black on white
Bard dared to write
About love, about race,
About trust and its disgrace.

Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov

In truth Clare Quilty
Was clearly guilty,
While humble Humbert Humbert
Was fervently pervert.
The issue to talk of
What told us Nabokov ?

The Spanish Ballad (Raquel, the Jewess of Toledo)
by Lion Feuchtwanger

It's Spain's Toledo in Castile at times of Reconquest
The pic of history entails both love and war along with Jewish people drama zest
My fellow Jews, who are advisers to the kings, - to you I issue my advise:
Please read this book and hide your daughters from king's eyes,
Or otherwise, so much to your surprise,
In vanity pursuit and lack of humbling you will find your own family demise.

Shakespeare's Sonnets by William Shakespeare

Two passions dwell in poet's heart,
Two desperate obsessions are reflected through his art.
Those are two characters from Shakespeare's poetry triangle:
The dark skinned lady and the man of fair skin .....
His charm is gentle and she's a striking beauty queen.
Three lives, three loves in chains of jealousy are fatally entangled.
Did two conspire secretly behind the poet's back,
Betraying him two times, which caused his soul to wreck ?

Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare

Not lasting was this couple's tragic young romance.
To taste the sweetness of each other love they lucky were just once.
No matter how, no matter what to tell us meant poEt,
So many youngsters die too soon not having even that.

Hamlet by William Shakespeare

Immortal Prince keeps coming back to make us look in depth:
What's better choice - to take the life "as is" or challenge it by death.
Each one finds answer on his own, decides it by thyself,
But if you want Shakespeare's advise - take "Hamlet" from bookshelf.

Amok by Stefan Zweig

The life is burnt in Amok with the fierce fire passion,
Emotions run on high, like live volcano at eruption.
The spark of human tragedy and pain of soul's despair,
Death, doom of suicide and fatal end of unrequited love affair.

The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway

Here's how the story lines eventually unravel:
Three men (at least or rather three and half) and one Le Femme Fatal
From Paris to Pamplona in escape from boredom for the leisure travel,
Where they all drink Pernod Absinthe until she meets the boy, who boldly fights the bull ...
Jake acts as liaison arranging Brett-bullfighter sex affair,
Cohn beats the **** off Spanish boy, Mike keeps on drinking and pretends that he's cool and doesn't care.

Hard to Be a God (The Noon Universe)
by Arkady Strugatsky, Boris Strugatsky

To those, who read *that crappy SCI-FI jazz* in quest to run away
From grim reality of life - I must, in truth, to say:
This piece is not, my friends, at all your regular fantastic tale.
It is much deeper, it was written to unveil
How cruel, ignorant, barbaric we still are - at large, as Human Race,
How progress strides its winding roads in slow, painful pace.

Woe from Wit by Alexander Griboedov

So often and by many I've been told
That talk is silver, while the silence has been made of pure gold.
Like Chatsky I felt always free to speak my rebel's mind;
No wonder that indeed I am "the failing looser" in the eyes of all those quail Molchalin's kind.
Being "Chatsky" makes the life to be the real mess.
It's "Woe from Wit", when one just likes to serve without licking bosses's ***.
The story is so true; it doesn't matter anyway, I must admit and say
Where, in what country Chatskys and Molchalins really live - it happens be the same for any country: Russia, France and even USA.

Fear by Stefan Zweig

How husband usually reacts when he discovers that his wife on him is cheating ?
Divorce, depression, suicide, the murder of the spouse, or just domestic cruel beating ?
The husband in this story is described to be more shrewd and innovative ...
What did he do ? - please find the answer by yourself - I hope to read this piece I gave you plenty of incentives ...

The burning secret by Stefan Zweig

The Jewish boy and his attractive mother were staying at health spa luxurious resort.
She quickly has been put *on notice* by the baron - seducer, womanizer, love affair's hunter figure ...
In order to approach the woman he befriends her son - just to advance the purpose of his *sport*;
The youngster is excited and accepts the baron's friendship with the vigor.

Then baron skillfully exploits devotion of young soul and gradually succeeds to charm the Jewish lady ...
But soon the boy begins suspecting baron's ploy.
He realizes that the baron used his trust and friendship simply as decoy.
In being abandoned, hurt by sudden friend's betrayal, boy's naive childhood ends and he was able to foresee to which direction mother's love affair headed.

Intuitively youngster feels that her infatuation with the baron is really a dangerous mistake.
To stop his mother from her falling into baron's hands, the son decides to do whatever it will take.
Being suddenly matured, acting smart and wise,
He wins the battle, saving mother while depriving the seducer of his clever, shrewd and cunning effort's prize.

Two Captains by Veniamin Kaverin

Across the distance and across the time, across the chain of generations,
They were alike, true captains both in duty and in love, - defending friends and fighting enemies without doubt and without hesitations.
In spite of changes of regime and changes in the names of states, in spite of changes in the color of the banner,
Brave men remain to be brave men, kind loving heart remains to be kind loving heart, and decent manner still remains to be unchanging decent manner.

The Snail on the Slope
by Arkady Strugatsky, Boris Strugatsky

In wilderness of vast unconquered forest, where nature still prevails,
Out of reach, and not controlled by techno style civilization,
Lies land with strange, mysterious society of powerful females,
Who do not need the help of men and use Parthenogenesis for sexless procreation ...

The Arabian Nights: Tales from a Thousand and One Nights

As sun comes down in the valley, bound by the Tigris and Eufrat,
Submerges into dark the capital of Muslim Khalifat.
The night descends on tired from the heat old city of Baghdad,
Where spears of high-rising minarets reflect moon's cold yet tender light.
The freshness of the breeze brings comfort and the leisure of delight,
Unfolding fairy tale, being told to Shahryar by smart Scheherazade,
Inspired by the need of her life saving plight,
Comes up the fantasy, entailed in every one (of "Thousand And One") Arabian Night ...

Children of Captain Grant, Jules Verne

Lord Glenarvan, his new-wed wife, McNabb and Paganel agreed to go ahead
And sail on board the "Duncan" yacht, to help the kids of captain Grant to find their missing Dad.
This quest leads them around the Globe in search of Scottish sailor.
They risked their lives so many times, yet kept their will and valor.

They knew "Britannia" shipwrecked at 37th parallel of south latitude ...
From Glasgow "Duncan" put up sails to Chile's shore on route.
Across the Andes they moved eastward, through snow and ice on foot,
Though no trace of Grant was found there, they kept search attitude.

Via Atlantic they've sailed away to "down under" land,
The rugged wilderness - with jumpy kangaroo and snappy crocodiles.
In false belief that captain's search comes near happy end,
To no use they have traversed few hundred humid, hot Australian miles.

Being tricked by Ayrton, in his hope to seize the ship - with help of pirates band,
By hand of fate the travelers were sent to land on shore of distant New Zealand,
Just to be captured by the tribe of violent Maori ...
But don't worry, since we all know "a priori",

That in the middle of the book,
To keep the readers stay on hook,
No matter how things went bad,
Main heroes never will be dead.

And here we go, in the near escape
Our heroes noticed their yacht, just anchored off the cape,
Where evil man has been disarmed and kept under arrest;
With all the troubles put aside, good guys took time to rest.

And finally, just passing by, on hardly noticed island,
James Grant, alive and healthy, suddenly was found.
The happy father reunited with his son and daughter
And yacht has rushed back home to dock at peaceful Scottish harbor water.

This book was clearly my first admired boyhood's read,
And it has planted in my brains romantic wisdom's seed -
About courage and Jule Verne's good cause adventure creed,
Without selfish treasure hunting weed - that spoiling purpose, driven by the greed.

The Mysterious Island by Jules Verne

Good people together on island could thrive,
Where single castaway just can hardly survive.
If we'll do the same on our planet Earth,
It really'd be true Paradise, where living would be worth.

In the heart of the Tuscany under Italy's sun
Lies the town of Lucca, which is known to some
As Giacomo Puccini's birthplace, and the truth to be told,
He's Italian composer, one of the best in the world.

In the times of Medieval - far back in the past
Thrived the banking in Lucca and the art of silk craft ...
....
The legend has that at those times and in this very city
Lucia Manco lived so gorgeous, vane and pretty.


Though cunning Satan made her splendid stunning beauty last
On the condition that she must her lovers souls to Devil pass.
... For quite a while this deal worked really well
- Men souls were going from her bed straight to the Hell.

For quite long time she never fell in love, we trust
- Her drive was simply egotistic vanity and crave for lust.
But even magic comes to undeterred sudden end
- She met young man, to whom she loving heart of hers has lent.

She would not dare to corrupt his holesom soul,
And lost her beauty just at once forever and for all.
He lost his love to her at instance when she lost her femine charms .
But to the worst, the Devil told him that he held his mother in his arms!