A Wish

I lie on the ground,
and stare into space,
the stars start to move,
into the shape of your face.

I see you there now,
looking down at me,
with that cute little smile,
that I like to see.

You say "close your eyes"
"tell me what you see"
I see only two people,
just you and me.

We're walking the shoreline,
with our feet getting wet,
the horizon turns pink,
as the sun starts to set.

We make love through the night,
on that white sandy shore,
then I hold you while thinking,
I could want nothing more.

Oh I wish I could be
in that one special place,
as I lie on the ground,
and I stare into space...

My Sweet

My sweet’s embrace grabs hold
of something deep within my soul.
Her magic touch soothes my heart
and fills an empty hole.

My sweet’s kisses are so soft and gentle,
more exquisite than fine wine.
Her slender fingers course through my hair,
sending shivers down my spine.

My sweet’s gaze I dare not meet too long,
although it may be bliss.
For in her eyes of ocean blue,
I may fall into the abyss.

My sweet‘s an earth bound angel,
whose wings she had to shed.
If my sweet be my true love,
then my true love has hair of red.

Your Name

I wrote your name in the sky,
but the wind blew it away.
I wrote your name in the sand,
but the waves washed it away.
I wrote your name in my heart,
and forever it will stay.

My Vow To You

When you are sad, I will dry your tears
When you are scared, I will comfort your fears
When you need love, my heart I will share
When you are sick, for you I will care

You will feel my love when we are apart
Knowing that nothing will change my heart
When you are worried, I will give you hope
When you are confused, I will help you cope

When you are lost, and can’t see the light
My love will be a beacon, shining ever so bright
This is my vow, one that I pledge till the end
For you above all are my wife and best friend

These words I have written, speak of my love for you
From my lips these words spoken, shall always ring true
God has blessed me, and with your hand in mine
Both of our hearts, will forever intertwine

Into all lives, falls pain and sorrows,
I promise together, we will meet all tomorrows
Happy in marriage, honor and love
blessed in unity by God above

As Long As You're Near

The first time we met I could see,
That you and I were meant to be.
Your eyes were so gentle,
Your smile so true,
When you first held my hand I just knew.

Now the time has gone by
Through laughter and tears,
These days I shall cherish for years upon years.

Those memories we have shall never fade,
For those are the steps that we have made.
That was the past,
The future is near,
I anxiously wait for what will appear.
New homes, more laughter, children so dear,
Everything will be wonderful as long as you're near.

As Long As You're Near

The first time we met I could see,
That you and I were meant to be.
Your eyes were so gentle,
Your smile so true,
When you first held my hand I just knew.

Now the time has gone by
Through laughter and tears,
These days I shall cherish for years upon years.

Those memories we have shall never fade,
For those are the steps that we have made.
That was the past,
The future is near,
I anxiously wait for what will appear.
New homes, more laughter, children so dear,
Everything will be wonderful as long as you're near.

A Thousand Fair Suitors

A thousand fair suitors all stab at your heart
Those poets of movement and jockeys of art
The high-volume vendors who hustle romance
Splashing their canvas with color and dance

The blasters of trumpets, gold banners unfurled
They offer lush gardens in glistening worlds
Yes, bearers of torches and carvers of stone
Who whisper their sonnets and surrender their thrones

And there in your doorway, no shadow is cast
No lingering voices, no ghosts from the past
Just a cluster of walls, and a window of pain
Collecting the heartache like droplets of rain

Still I stand before you, with palms to the sky
No gold in my pocket, no thorn in my side
And all I can offer, where words have no place
Is a body that trembles, and this love that awaits

Your Name

I wrote your name in the sky,

but the wind blew it away.

I wrote your name in the sand,

but the waves washed it away.

I wrote your name in my heart,

and forever it will stay.

Love Is

Love is the greatest feeling,

Love is like a play,

Love is what I feel for you,

Each and every day,

Love is like a smile,

Love is like a song,

Love is a great emotion,

That keeps us going strong,

I love you with my heart,

My body and my soul,

I love the way I keep loving,

Like a love I can’t control,

So remember when your eyes meet mine,

I love you with all my heart,

And I have poured my entire soul into you,

Right from the very start.

You won my heart
How you express yourselves
Because no one ever can
You won my heart
And claim my star
Because you come into my life
Will you marriage me to beloved wife?

A Husband

A husband should be
Loyal and honest

A husband should be
Strong and protective

A husband should be
Loving and romantic

A husband should be
Patient and understanding

A husband should know
When enough is enough

A husband should know
When to fight and when to cry

A husband should know
all your goals and dreams

A husband should know
your strengths and well as your weaknesses

A husband needs to be a true man
A husband needs to love you unconditionally
A husband needs to know your heart is forever his

Wife
Some women are pretty
But your wife is beautiful
Some women are hot
But your wife is the hottest
Woman are for sex
But your wife is to make love with
Wife is a forbidden fruit
…….To you all………
……. Wife is loved……..
At home and by her husband
The wife is the husband’s
And husband love making love to her
No other women can
Give a husband the love
A wife is the husband success
Full of warmth and happiness
Mother to the children
She is gifted

A sudden blow: the great wings beating still
Above the staggering girl, her thighs caressed
By the dark webs, her nape caught in his bill,
He holds her helpless breast upon his breast.

How can those terrified vague fingers push
The feathered glory from her loosening thighs?
And how can body, laid in that white rush,
But feel the strange heart beating where it lies?

A shudder in the loins engenders there
The broken wall, the burning roof and tower
And Agamemnon dead.
Being so caught up,
So mastered by the brute blood of the air,
Did she put on his knowledge with his power
Before the indifferent beak could let her drop?

Saddest Poem

I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.

Write, for instance: "The night is full of stars,
and the stars, blue, shiver in the distance."

The night wind whirls in the sky and sings.

I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

On nights like this, I held her in my arms.
I kissed her so many times under the infinite sky.

She loved me, sometimes I loved her.
How could I not have loved her large, still eyes?

I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
To think I don't have her. To feel that I've lost her.

To hear the immense night, more immense without her.
And the poem falls to the soul as dew to grass.

What does it matter that my love couldn't keep her.
The night is full of stars and she is not with me.

That's all. Far away, someone sings. Far away.
My soul is lost without her.

As if to bring her near, my eyes search for her.
My heart searches for her and she is not with me.

The same night that whitens the same trees.
We, we who were, we are the same no longer.

I no longer love her, true, but how much I loved her.
My voice searched the wind to touch her ear.

Someone else's. She will be someone else's. As she once
belonged to my kisses.
Her voice, her light body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, true, but perhaps I love her.
Love is so short and oblivion so long.

Because on nights like this I held her in my arms,
my soul is lost without her.

Although this may be the last pain she causes me,
and this may be the last poem I write for her.

Like city's rain, my heart
Rains teardrops too. What now,
This languorous ache, this smart
That pierces, wounds my heart?
Gentle, the sound of rain
Pattering roof and ground!
Ah, for the heart in pain,
Sweet is the sound of rain!
Tears rain-but who knows why?-
And fill my heartsick heart.
No faithless lover's lie? ...
It mourns, and who knows why?
And nothing pains me so--
With neither love nor hate--
A simply not to know
Why my heart suffers so.

From fairest creatures we desire increase,

That thereby beauty's rose might never die,

But as the riper should by time decease,

His tender heir might bear his memory:

But thou contracted to thine own bright eyes,

Feed'st thy light's flame with self-substantial fuel,

Making a famine where abundance lies,

Thy self thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel:

Thou that art now the world's fresh ornament,

And only herald to the gaudy spring,

Within thine own bud buriest thy content,

And, tender churl, mak'st waste in niggarding:

Pity the world, or else this glutton be,

To eat the world's due, by the grave and thee.

By Safo
Come back to me, Gongyla, here tonight,
You, my rose, with your Lydian lyre.
There hovers forever around you delight:
A beauty desired.

Even your garment plunders my eyes.
I am enchanted: I who once
Complained to the Cyprus-born goddess,
Whom I now beseech

Never to let this lose me grace
But rather bring you back to me:
Amongst all mortal women the one
I most wish to see.

-

To gaze at a river made of time and water
and remember Time is another river.
To know we stray like a river
and our faces vanish like water.

To feel that waking is another dream
that dreams of not dreaming and that the death
we fear in our bones is the death
that every night we call a dream.

To see in every day and year a symbol
of all the days of man and his years,
and convert the outrage of the years
into a music, a sound, and a symbol.

To see in death a dream, in the sunset
a golden sadness--such is poetry,
humble and immortal, poetry,
returning, like dawn and the sunset.

Sometimes at evening there's a face
that sees us from the deeps of a mirror.
Art must be that sort of mirror,
disclosing to each of us his face.

They say Ulysses, wearied of wonders,
wept with love on seeing Ithaca,
humble and green. Art is that Ithaca,
a green eternity, not wonders.

Art is endless like a river flowing,
passing, yet remaining, a mirror to the same
inconstant Heraclitus, who is the same
and yet another, like the river flowing.

I SIT BY THE WINDOW

I said fate plays a game without a score,
and who needs fish if you've got caviar?
The triumph of the Gothic style would come to pass
and turn you on--no need for coke, or grass.
I sit by the window. Outside, an aspen.
When I loved, I loved deeply. It wasn't often.

I said the forest's only part of a tree.
Who needs the whole girl if you've got her knee?
Sick of the dust raised by the modern era,
the Russian eye would rest on an Estonian spire.
I sit by the window. The dishes are done.
I was happy here. But I won't be again.

I wrote: The bulb looks at the flower in fear,
and love, as an act, lacks a verb; the zer-
o Euclid thought the vanishing point became
wasn't math--it was the nothingness of Time.
I sit by the window. And while I sit
my youth comes back. Sometimes I'd smile. Or spit.

I said that the leaf may destory the bud;
what's fertile falls in fallow soil--a dud;
that on the flat field, the unshadowed plain
nature spills the seeds of trees in vain.
I sit by the window. Hands lock my knees.
My heavy shadow's my squat company.

My song was out of tune, my voice was cracked,
but at least no chorus can ever sing it back.
That talk like this reaps no reward bewilders
no one--no one's legs rest on my sholders.
I sit by the window in the dark. Like an express,
the waves behind the wavelike curtain crash.

A loyal subject of these second-rate years,
I proudly admit that my finest ideas
are second-rate, and may the future take them
as trophies of my struggle against suffocation.
I sit in the dark. And it would be hard to figure out
which is worse; the dark inside, or the darkness out.

I heard a Fly buzz - when I died -

The Stillness round my form

Was like the Stillnes in the Air -

Between the Heaves of Storm -



The Eyes around - had wrung them dry -

And Breaths were gathering firm

For that last Onset - when the King

Be witnessed - in his power -



I willed my Keepsakes - Signed away

What portion of me be

Assignable - and then it was

There interposed a Fly -



With Blue - uncertain stumbling Buzz -

Between the light - and me -

And then the Windows failed - and then

I could not see to see -

I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;
And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

--Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster

What Do Women Want?"

I want a red dress.

I want it flimsy and cheap,

I want it too tight,

I want to wear it until someone tears it off me.

I want it sleeveless and backless,

this dress, so no one has to guess

what's underneath.

I want to walk down

the street past Thrifty's and the hardware store

with all those keys glittering in the window,

past Mr. and Mrs. Wong selling day-old

donuts in their café, past the Guerra brothers

slinging pigs from the truck and onto the dolly,

hoisting the slick snouts over their shoulders.

I want to walk like I'm the only woman on earth and I can have my pick.

I want that red dress bad.

I want it to confirm

your worst fears about me,

to show you how little I care about you

or anything except what I want.

When I find it, I'll pull that garment

from its hanger like I'm choosing a body

to carry me into this world, through

the birth-cries and the love-cries too,

and I'll wear it like bones, like skin,

it'll be the goddamned

dress they bury me in.

kimmmmy....

I want tight red spandex jeans.

I want them dirty, ripped and cheap,

I want ‘em too tight,

For her to have to fight to tear ‘em off me.

I want them shorts not overalls ,

But tight, so no one has to guess

what's with the balls.

I want to walk down

the street past VS's and the hairstylist's store

with g-strings quartets sounding off the window,

past Mr. and Mrs. Wong ironing life-long

wrinkles in their laundry, past the Guerra twins

slinging tennis skirts from the little red cabriolet,

hoisting the slick long blond blown hair over their shoulders.

I want to walk like I'm the only man on earth and I can have my pick.

I want them red spandex jeans bad.

I want them to incite

your worst fears about me,

to show you how little I care about you

or anything, carefree.

When I find them, I’ll sneak that garment

Under my loose fit blue jeans, like I’m hiding a body

to carry me into this world, through

the store detectors, lie-detectos too,

and I'll wear them through the 80’s like bones, like skin,

they'll be the goddamned

spandex jeans they bury me in.

I dream'd I lay where flowers were springing
Gaily in the sunny beam;
List'ning to the wild birds singing,
By a falling crystal stream:
Straight the sky grew black and daring;
Thro' the woods the whirlwinds rave;
Tress with aged arms were warring,
O'er the swelling drumlie wave.

Such was my life's deceitful morning,
Such the pleasures I enjoyed:
But lang or noon, loud tempests storming
A' my flowery bliss destroy'd.
Tho' fickle fortune has deceiv'd me-
She promis'd fair, and perform'd but ill,
Of mony a joy and hope bereav'd me-
I bear a heart shall support me still.

MOTHER TONGUE

That’s the one the butcher
Wraps in a newspaper
And throws on the rusty scale
Before you take it home

Where a black cat will leap
Off the cold stove
Licking its whiskers
At the sound of her name.