Painkillers effectively kills everything
ranging from your money
spouse, peaceful time, good life ... etc
You name it
they kill it
except for one mere trifle
that is
Your Pain
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Painkillers effectively kills everything
ranging from your money
spouse, peaceful time, good life ... etc
You name it
they kill it
except for one mere trifle
that is
Your Pain
This afternoon
not very common in January
the sun was sprinkling gold dust
lavishly
here and there
on the golden cornfield
not far away from a small hill
Tired of the hustle and bustle of city life
I took a walk there
and had a nap for a long while
to photosynthesize with those ancient pines
bathed in the yellow sunlight
At dusk
when time to pull up stakes
I rejoiced to find
this rice worm was too overloaded
with golden sunshine
to stand up
on his own two roots
I wrote a poem for you
but didn't send it through
still kept in a jar
beside a bunch of purple lavender
Though you live half a world away
there's always a way
for you to read my heart
If my soul is the strings of a guitar
and yours the sounding box
then they are never really apart
You left me just a few hours ago
which seemed ages and ages to me
Without you around
my mind has turned messy
as the disheveled hair on the head of a hobo
People say
another cold front's on the way
I'm afraid
this world will become eventually beyond hope
barren as the severe climate
in the Arctic circle
with only winds howling and howling
Don't ever leave me
my mistress
for you're my Muse
my inspiration
Only with your stroke of a genius
will I be capable of painting
in my poem
a meadow with countless wild flowers
on this freezing wilderness
Wearing the slate grey sky
not unusual in January
and walking along a lonely street with the chilly wind
I felt like
living in the ice age
No sooner had I started
missing those cheerful sunflowers
which bloomed fervently
last summer
on your smiling face
than
from you
my dear Nikita
I received a well-wishing card
which
you would never believe
did thaw the iceberg
in my heart
in no time
Young as a caterpillar
you shouldn't ponder
whether others like you or not
or what will be in the future
Instead
you should devote yourself to digging in
to those lush green leaves
and getting as chubby as can be
Sooner or later
it will dawn on people
that this world is much more colorful
with your presence
when you transform into a butterfly
This is a cute poem, it reminds me a bit if children's book called The Very Hungry Caterpillar by Eric Carle.
Thanks, Bee, for the nice feedback and the info. I just checked it and felt surprised. I never knew this book before you told me for I didn't grow up in England.Quote:
Originally Posted by Buh4Bee
Where are the myriad sounds of carefree laughter
we left in the air
while we were shooting the breeze
in the spring
Are they still blowing in the wind
or turning into tears
that can't bear to roll down our cheeks
like faded leaves
when fall's just around the corner
On the outside
the frigid air mass is lingering
On the inside
I'm hibernating
in my lair
like a sound slumbering bear
I'm wondering
why don't we human beings
wearing the very image of the omniscient
stop killing
devastating
and exploiting Nature
Like the ferocious creature
why not take a rest
to let Mother catch her breath
If you grace my humble cabin
in the snowy season
I'll efface the bleak winds and rains
from the landscape
for you
with a brush
leaving only snowflakes
falling like colorful petals from the heavens
on the sunny day
To do the trick
neither a magic pen or wand
must I need
for you're sure to bring along with you
my inspiration
This is good. It has the classical flow of Buddhist writings, almost. The flow in zen poetry, for instance, is like that of a spring--undisturbed and continuous. lines 5 and 6 defy that flow. Is it better to put "with a brush" before "for you"? Again, the serenity it invokes is clear.
Thanks, miyako, for leaving your graceful and insightful remarks here. And thanks for the advice.Quote:
Originally Posted by miyako73
One layer after another
the fancy clothes she put on
are more than sufficient
to pass her off as a bunch of tulips
at yuletide
Nevertheless
if you care to recollect
in the season of flowers and bees
she did humble many
a butterfly
simply in her birthday suit
Wandering down a country lane
I stop by a newly harvested rice field
with strewing straws
bathing blissfully in the winter sun
Not far away
several sparrows are chitchatting
like naughty noisy lasses
I hope they're not talking about me
behind my back
for I'm neither a straw man
nor will I scare them away
when they're enjoying those scattered grains
How can I explain to them
I'm lying here
simply to savor the delightful sunshine
along with the gentle touch of the January breeze
I couldn't care less
if they refer to me as a rice worm
idling away the golden day
this way
for I'm not a go-getter
and never take delight in making money
or war
All I need is peace and harmony
in the afternoon
I like "My Fair Lady at Yuletide". It's clever, and the use of "birthday suit" is witty and sexy. Are you Asian? Your sensibilities and minimalist tendencies are unique and obvious.
The rice worm poem is good too but your use of neither/nor is somewhat problematic. I think "I'm not a straw man, nor will I scare them away." is better.
One for the road
two for our remorse as a heavy load
and the last ...
and the last ...
for our precious youth
having been lavished on nonsense
Thanks, miyako, for the most inspiring feedback which I almost missed. Yes, I'm a Chinese and English is not my mother tongue. Are you a Japanese American, based on your screen name?Quote:
Originally Posted by miyako73
They say
winter plums are blooming vibrantly
today
in the dead of winter
in spite of the bitter cold weather
If you're coming back
from afar
to appreciate
those pink white little stars
with me
for the sake of good old days
we may ignore
those unpleasant snowflakes
that are falling on our hair
and there to stay
Only once in a blue moon
I'd kick a guy's bottom
by sheer accident
but for certain
I'd hit the headline
and be billed as a killer lion
Whereas
people persecute us
on the daily basis
by the dozen
yet nothing seems to happen
to them
In the long run
none is to blame
Dam
This is so lame
My beauty
You're pretty
as a jasmine
in June
flawless snow white and elegant
I feel like in heaven
merely with your presence
So
my love
please don't preach
on chemistry or astronomy
to me
in your poetry
Perhaps
it's a mistake
we come to this world
for the road between us seems
long and rugged
Perhaps
we lived in a remote green village
before this life
you spun your yarn
and I--
I was busy growing rice
in the field
Perhaps
we shall meet again
soon
after this life
when we won't be tied to the ground
for our spirits are free
to be everywhere
Some say
the omnipotent gives a face
to a woman
whereas she creates another one
of her own
I can't but confess
you do have a gift for creation
For more often than not
I'm bewitched
by what you've produced
When summer was here
I was fed up with
its fervency
as well as yours
Now you're gone with
its warmth
I'm starting to miss
your rosy cheeks
First thing first
you quench my thirst
when I need you
Somehow I still feel a bit blue
for I don't think I've ever loved you
with all my heart
Maybe you're just a small part
of my life
far from being my wife
Though you still look fantastic
smell aromatic
and taste delicious to me
yet my soul has always been
a restless bee
In the outside world
they're starting the third world war
The bleak winds are gnarling
and the sobbing rains pounding
like a flock of ravens
quarreling over some yummy worms
And the grey heavens are being torn
into pieces and falling down
As an ordinary squirrel
I can't help hiding in my humble burrow
and praying to the omnipresent
to endow us with a peaceful present
Azaleas are blooming here and there
on the hill
though I can still feel
the early spring chill
I'd like to pick a pure white one for you
to put it in your hair
But where are you
I shouldn't have missed you so much
in the first place
for I know
you're nothing but my echo
Though I'm not Narcissus
yet I'm wasting away all the same
for the same reflection
Some say
the omnipotent gives a face
to a woman
whereas she creates another one
of her own
I can't but confess
you do have a gift for creation
For more often than not
I'm bewitched
by what you've produced
First thing first
you quench my thirst
when I need you
Somehow I still feel a bit blue
for I don't think I've ever loved you
with all my heart
Maybe you're just a small part
of my life
far from being my wife
Though you still look fantastic
smell aromatic
and taste delicious to me
yet my soul has always been
a restless bee
I don't have a magic wand
but a simple pen
which can conjure up a fragrant garden
for you
when you're singing the blue
when you're living in the bleakest north pole
a dreariest life without any hope
And better still
it will never grow old
I'm not blowing the balloon
unless you forget to bloom
in the spring
when birds come back to sing
It's drizzling again
and I'm thinking of you
thinking of the silky tresses
floating in the air
conjuring up a paradise
in the misty rain
on this autumn night
I'm eager to be a street lamp
waiting ...
ever waiting for you
to stroll by
to reflect your grace
on each raindrop
on my face
If you happen to see me
wobbling and ...
don't blame the gusty winds
or the whisky
for it's your charms
that leave me drunk over and over
again
Oh! Ron sixty five
Please give us a big five
but no sigh
for life's shorter than the blue sky
before you get away from it all
Others may call
to ask you to stay a little longer
for none can bear the cold winter
along with the grey heavens
without your presence
As a last resort
I may crawl and caw
like a black raven
On the rainy day
I'm your umbrella on the way
back home
to hold dearly like a poem
More often than not
I fear not
dripping like a leaking jug
if only you feel snug
~~Revised
My friend
All parties must come to an end
One day
when you have to see me off
don't worry about
what to wear for the day
Suppose
you don't have anything valuable
just wear a smile
sincere and humble
Revised
Crying ...
the moment
I came into this world
I was crying ...
When your smile was here
to humble all the May flowers
I was crying ...
worrying ...
it'd disappear one day
Now you've drifted far far away
I'm crying ...
like a cicada
facing an empty stage
at the edge of the world
I'm crying ...
Perhaps
one day
when I stop crying
it'll be the day you start crying ...
Revised
In spring
it goes without saying
your smile is like a rose bud
in the morning
Now summer's frolicking
in the stream
I'm longing for you
like ice cream
In autumn
I'll draw on a flyleaf
your elegance
like a pink maple leaf
Come Winter
I'll cuddle you
like a double comforter
Revised
If you feel like to call on me
you need not run all the way
to my shabby shanty
You can save
your troubles for another day
Like a whimsical zephir
I'm everywhere
except at my own humble place
In case
I'm at home
my soul may be still lingering
in a green mountain
where a crystal clear stream
is flowing serenely by
day and night
If you feel like to call on me
you need not run all the way
to my shabby shanty
You can save
your troubles for another day
Like a whimsical zephir
I'm everywhere
except at my own humble place
In case
I'm at home
my soul may be still lingering
in a green mountain
where a crystal clear stream
is flowing serenely by
day and night
Our heavenly Father
We thank thee for providing our daily bugs
We ask thee to keep
showering us with countless green backs
but not with old ages
We can readily save those extra bucks
in any bank
but where could we deposit
those gnawing extra ages
may we ask
Please forgive us our trespasses
as we forgive those predators
who prey upon us
After all
we're just trivial praying mantes
Amen
Oh
Summer Breeze
while you're humming
all the golden hair aspens
start pulling up their skirts
coyly revealing their creamy long legs
and swaying gracefully
to your intoxicating melody
You know
I'm not a man of whisky
but my heart is tipsy
all the same
Revised