 |
 |
 |
 |
AUGUST BIRTHDAY POETRY
|
| Jan | Feb
| Mar | Apr
| May | Jun
| Jul | Aug | Sep
| Oct | Nov
| Dec | Poetry
Home |
| |
Aug 6
Untitled - by Mahin Ali Khan
I am aching for what I am missing
Now I am thinking... imagining,
What is it to feel your hair between my fingers?
And on my lips?
Not kissing, but brushing against.
I am discovering what it is
To breathe in the scent of golden silk.
Blind, my face flirts with your locks,
My senses, melting me down to bone
I long to touch you without touch
I long to breathe you in and never exhale
I long to feel you,
And just feel.
You.
The inside of your wrist is pale, veined.
I trace translucent, blue green rivulets with my fingertip,
Travelling the river road of your blood
With one square millimetre of skin.
Your eyes are locked onto my journey.
My eyes, onto the sweeping wave of your lashes,
Locked and unfluttering.
Randomly, I think of a key
Lost in the ocean underneath your eyelids.
But who seeks it? Not I.
I am serene.
Content to swim in the sea of your near glances
And walk along the banks of your meandering canals
With my poem writing, ink-stained fingers.
Poem in transit
May, 2003
Bombay
Word worshipper and word whore. Consecrated
to the
altar of expression, I attempt to translate intangibles and in the
myriad process find myself revelling in this extraordinary lust,
for
language.
Top of page
|
| |
Aug 6
Untitled - by Aurora in Atlantis
'It will stay with me.
The feeling.
As long as it needs to last.
As long as I last. Maybe less.
Where do I run next?
Maybe more.
Then am I safe?
But let me not forget,
Oh Consciousness,
There really is no 'me', anyway.
And all of us are just time wasted.'
I am a womyn of colour, a womyn of
creed. a womyn of passion, compassion. a womyn of extremes, a womyn
of words. a womyn for all womyn. a womyn's womyn.
Top of page
|
Aug 8
Dreams or reality? - by Misti Blakeney
I fell in love
With a man without a face
I went to wake him one day
And found him dead
It was so obscure the way he lied there
And it was interesting to see me sit there crying;
Unmoving; silent tears
That's all I rememeber; him lying in that bed
No recollection of our love
But now I have this emptyness I can't explain
It stings and twists and turns in all directions
Until every part of me is swallowed up and disappears
Followed only by the comfort of a warm yellow light
And a familiar voice so close but
Still echoing
My eyes jar open to see him
Lying next to me; Breathing
Could this be?
Merely a dream...?
I am an aspiring novelist,
poet, and photographer. I have been published twice for my poetry
and Nationally recognized as a Poet of the Year Nominee for 2002.
Top of page |
|
Aug 8
The Vineyard, Love Mediterranean Style - by Ralph
Thomas
To all love that never was
Summer wind and rain all visited my love
And I have watched her grow through the years.
By the seaside overlooking the cliff
High on the mountain side.
I sit thinking of her love
And the breath taking beauty I see
From atop my lookout on the mountain peak.
I know our love has been misunderstood.
I would reach down and hold her if I could
For I am free to roam as I please
But she is bound to an overbearing master
And she cannot get free.
So, I'll think of her and what could be,
From atop my spot on the mountain.
I will walk by sometime and admire her from near
Her grapes are beautiful and delicious
The most desired in the vineyard
And make the best wine
But her master will not share.
Educator, Poet, Romantic
Top of page |
|
Aug 15
Removing The Protective Cover - by Brenda Tyler
I'm writing you a letter
And I cannot help but cry
The words just don't seem right
I pause and wonder why
My thoughts are like waterfalls furious drop
As it shatters the calmness of the awaiting stream
Like a surprising turn of events
Awaking you from a dream
Something you wished desperately to be true
It's up to me to make you understand
To burst the shielding bubble
And ruin everything you've planned
I have pulled the red carpet from your feet
Leaving you lying upon the floor
Continuously dreaming of having so much more
I could have lied to you
And concealed all the pain
But now I have chosen to be here for you
To help you pass the rain.
I am an 18 year old from Arizona
who has been writing poetry for a few years. I write about many
different subjects that are affecting my life.
Top of page |
|
Aug 16
Tempered Silk - by Jeanne Wagner
As Time goes by my brain gets musty
I can't remember feeling whole in my body
Longing for rain to clear out my cobwebs
Eager to be sixteen in love
I listen to birds sing and know I'm not young
I feel more like steel than like silk
Sometimes the freedom of oblivion invites me
Other days I wonder how long I have left
Dead as an old petal in a still pond
Not moving, waiting for the wind to stir me
Brown and faded on one end, deep red on the other
My flesh is hard, and my mind is tired I
am a mother, a wife, and a wage slave. I was not born beautiful,
or gifted, and I am starting the last half of my life. San Jose,
California.
Top of page |
|
Aug 20
Eyes - by Jade Hernandez
Sad Eyes
Staring longingly wandering the world silently reflecting
Always waiting wanting searching sinking
Stumbling through a haze of tears and sighs, dreams that die
Childlike innocence shattered by space and time
So broken lost naked slicing through my heart
Happy eyes
So full of love and grace glistening with delight
Dancing over visions so sweet I am losing myself in beauty
Bursting with emotions exploding out of chest
Etching oceans sunsets your face in my soul's eye
So loving caring hopeful melting for you
Angry eyes
Set firmly beneath furrowed brows
Half closed to the world surrounding me
Seeing only the consumption of inner self
The flames rising as droplets overflow
So old tired raw burning with hatred
Dancing eyes
Hopping skipping eyes lips lingering fingertips
Crazed with thought flowing with feeling
Caressing you tenderly with secrets from my heart
Wanting to take you in hold you hide you away
Swirling gliding down lost like hips drowning in air
Tired eyes
Sorrow tugging at eyelids beating down heart
Half sleeping dreaming tumbling through day and night
Aching to close escape the pain anger hatred emptiness
Struggling to open so very terrified of sleep
Crying crashing crumbling into exhaustion
Alive eyes
Warm with the nourishment of nature's canvas
Open wide reaching for the stars sun moon and you
Lowering lovingly through raindrops gray clouds tears in eyes
Settling so sweetly simply sheerly contented by you
Bright happy hopeful dreaming wanting falling found
My eyes
Heart soul mind graying into blue
Thoughtfully gazing half conscious living as windows
So faraway lost hidden in sight oddly connected somehow
Grasping tightly so twisted afraid always laced with sadness
Happy alive dancing in bliss you're kissing me free
I am a student at the University
of Miami .
Top of page |
|
Aug 31
Faith - by tweety
What
is faith to you?
Faith to me is believing something with no reason
I have faith in you to read my poetry,
understand my poetry,
and not to judge me by my age,
but by my work.
I have faith in God each season.
Jesus died here on Earth
But his spirit never will
That's why you too should have faith
And I'll have faith in you still.
To keep me I am an 11 year
old who lives in Southfield, MI and loves to write poetry.
Top of page |
|
|
