SAMMY'S POEMS
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Hi all, I'm new here. Pretty pleasantly surprised to find this thread. For me, poetry is one great outlet for all my feelings and thoughts, and sure glad to see many of you share the same sentiment...
One of mine...
My Advocates' Complains
Tell me something my man
what is it with you these days;
you have doubts more than the grains of sand,
more than the hellish scorching glints of ray,
more than the mortals on this rotting land 5
or the autumn leaves that withers away;
more than all the crows in my orchestra band,
more than the elves in the Enchanted Woods far, faraway...
Doubts? On what?
Have I not let you into my abyss-deep cellars, 10
or peer into my darkest chamber?
Have I not let you take the reins on my mind's pillars
and cast all the others asunder?
Have I not jolly well fool around with you in your parlor,
or ride with you on the highways of meander? 15
Doubts? I doubt so...
Well, you see not what everyone here observes;
Your train of thoughts've gone real askew,
very much getting on our nerves;
Really, your misdeeds are not few, 20
and such treatment is not what we deserve;
think of how we refresh you daily like morning dew,
how you have had divinely exciting times in our turf
where everyday's joyous thrills are new...
So I see what you mean my dear advocate; 25
it's not that I'm shunning you or anything of that nature.
Just that things have somewhat complicate,
or rather simplify this mystifying, abstract picture
which I have painstakingly perused for so long my mate...
for in it lies the exceedingly crucial juncture 30
where I can find the trident key to abate
the raging storms that my mind's agendas so perpetually feature...
Well then, however disappointed we may be,
keep in mind we're always there,
faithfully standing by in the deepest, coldest valley 35
ever ready with our concern and care;
with lanterns that never burns out easily
to light your path and expose the craftiest snare;
for whatever you desire, we aim to fulfill readily,
for whatever you want destroyed, there's nothing we won't dare... 40
Lots of love,
Your Faithful Advocate(s)
Notes on poem: http://sammy9958.blogspot.com -
Welcome sammy a.k.a. fabioxiv!
Just visited your blog. Very interesting poems you have there particularly ‘Life is Beautiful...’ and ‘The Starry Starry Night’. Two excellent poems!
By the way do make yourself at home in DPS(S). Poets here basically writes because of the pure love for poetry. Do read the ‘Introduction’ if you have the time. -
Thanks DeadPoet...
Here's one abt my first dream lover...
Christina
Wish I could, if I have again the chance
to sit in the same old chair,
with my mind in a dance
when out of the blue she came to me
with a beam on her face so lovely
into my hands she shoved a piece of paper
an ad from a journal it was, for me to ponder
"I know you love to write...
it's a small writing school
looking for people to groom, pretty cool"
"Er...oh, yep, gosh...thanks, really,"
was only what I could mumble
darn I wish I had killed myself for that fumble.
Well, that was just an instant of many others
in which I did not dare to express much either
call me a fool, I would not protest;
instead, I pretty much detest
myself for being such a coward,
never dare to take a step forward...
Anyway, it's all too late to say anything now
for no shrub can be reaped
from a land not plowed
no autumn leaves sailing in the wind
would ever stop and turn
no wet embers can once more start to burn
I can only keep her
in this secret closet in my heart
of which I hold not to fall apart,
and wish her well in her blissful marriage life
I wish her love , to live and thrive
though my fire for her I shall always keep alive... -
First poem in your blog.
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By the way are you a fan of W.Somerset Maugham?
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well, haven't read any of his honestly, but i like Ovid and Dante
here's my latest update in my blog...
That will be the day...
That will be the day,
when the moon shines no longer the intoxicating light
when the birds' chirping becomes an irk
when sunrise is no longer a beautiful sight
when Spring resigns from his routine shift work
That will be the day,
when the rainbow no longer bends a classic arc
when the waters of the stream gush so erratically
when no leaves dance no more in the lushy greeny park
when there lovers loathe to cuddle so intimately
That will be the day,
when my heart flutters no longer at the your smile so lovely
when my ear tingles not a bit at your whisper
when my chest warms not when there your head rests so cosily
when my pale face flushes not as I let it your ebony smother
That will be the day...
that I say I don't love you... -
The Muahaha Song
There's this little imp called Tralala
bouncing here and there singing a looney song
this song he named Muahaha
yes, the looney Muahaha song...
So here's how it goes...
"Muahaha i go, as i see the guy in the Hugo Boss suit
swaggering down Shenton Way,
his haughty eyes hint of his pride in his pursuit,
that meaningless pursuit of a so-called Elite Way;
Muahaha i go, as i bump into this chick so voluptuous,
all glitters of Tiffany's, her ivory arm clutching the renowned checkered bag;
but like a supposed-to-be masterpiece ruined by an error so preposterous
her other arm's around a confounded, lascivious old hag;
Muahaha i go, as i overhear these four single ladies bantering
of the hunks they drool over and dream about
of men they need not, they concur though, so firmly
when intense yearnings harbor in those lonely hearts, no doubt;
Muahaha i go, as i see the pompous yuppie
lavishly spending on designer brands and classy dinners
so wanting of respect with his cheapened money
bah, those cheapened money from his forefathers.
So there goes Tralala,
bouncing along
happily singing his Muahaha song...
[u] -
the tramp
the wretched tramp, slowly he trudges
in the muddy path to NoWhere Land
his tattered trench coat so artistically fudged
it accentuates his story-telling tan
he drags his feet forward as such
like a leaking, blotching manuscript pen
many a times he stops to sigh
wondering when his journey'll end
he looks at the eagles soaring high
to fly he wishes he really can
each step he takes, some pieces of him die
like the colors that fades at the rainbow end
how he wished of his sorrows he could cry
but his eyes're as dry as Sahara's sand
how he wished he could just drop dead and die
but his life's not his own, he knows his stand
O lonely tramp O wretched tramp
why does he live on so wearily
why does he drag his feet on anyway
he knows not what's it to be happy
he can never fathom the meaning of gay
he will never know of peace and harmony
of love and tenderness there's no need to say
but relentless angst and agony
shall always paint his skies so gray
woes and blues are his company
warmth and tenderness keep him at bay
the devils spite him with sarcasm and mockery
the angels from him with disgust shun away
there's no meaning in this life anymore
ah, anyway there may not be any before
like a sailor overboard who'll never see the shore
like a trapped child who can never find the door
his future will be bleak and unsure
there'll always be much to endure
so very much to endure
endure...