Poetry Information |
Since Youve Been Gone...
My life has changed Without you here I feel like I'm lost... I need you to tell me Nobody will ever be what Your tender face again I would give 10 years My love for you began I know I was truly blessed I will never forget Me - when I was a little girl You always stood by me Now that you're gone To make my life better, I miss everything about you When you were here Why God had to take you I will never understand Resource Box - © Danielle Hollister (2004) is the Publisher of BellaOnline Quotations Zine - A free newsletter for quote lovers featuring more than 10,000 quotations in dozens of categories like - love, friendship, children, inspiration, success, wisdom, family, life, and many more. Read it online at - http://www.bellaonline.com/articles/art8364.asp
MORE RESOURCES: Unable to open RSS Feed $XMLfilename with error HTTP ERROR: 404, exiting |
RELATED ARTICLES
Daybreak at Pikes Creek [a Poem] Daybreak at Pikes Creek[Summer of 2005]Daybreak by Lake SuperiorRising out of the woods like:A swamp mistI'm waiting for breakfast(at the B&B)I pace the groundsThe scent of green shrubbery:Trees, flora, flowers-rain Intoxicates me-Branches like big brown armsDescend?The embankment, to the rightBlue eyed, like mine-reflect From the creek beneath me(my wife says 'be careful'she went to get the camera)The greens and blues touchMy face and blue jeans-Reflections mirrored like Musical notes of a symphony(I'll see them later in pictures)For now, it's daybreakIn Minnesota.#813 8/26/2005Note: the author, Dennis Siluk, took his wife Rosa [me: on my birthday] to Lake Superior, this summer, and I adored the biggest lake in the world. Recollections I AM SO GRATEFUL for simpler times.Stores were closed on Sundays,TV shows seemed to make more sense,Family members spent ample time with each other,And people were valued more than things. Two Poems and an Analysis ['Witness,' & 'An Old Love'] Two Poems and an Analysis ['Witness,' & 'An Old Love']WitnessMy face belongs to whoever sees itEverything has a meaning but lifeEven the bugs strive for existence God saved man, from GodGhosts have lonely sinsHer bones are stonesUp and down the hillGardens blossomSpotless skiesDramatistsAugustI can not rest!.. Black Blood, in Jeremiahs Vines - A Poem and an Article Black Blood, in Jeremiah's Vines[A Dream Poem]And I heard the crackling of wood, and I noticed the Lord God had made men of wood, and fire came from his mouth.Then the wind poured its grief upon us-over our sins; and I heard the words for the seventh time, "Go to the mountains!"Foolish people of this land pray and understand-for He cometh! Thereof, toss yourself to thy knees, for the roar of rebellious men will bleed: black blood, through the vines of Jeremiah. Since Youve Been Gone... My life has changedin so so many waysIt seems to always bein a state of disarray.. Storm Rising along the Lima Coast Storm Rising along the Lima Coast [Summer of 2002]?wind was blowing furiously It never left for a moment Bursts of fury I found it difficult to keep My feet placed, thus, I clung to my knees For one blissful moment I could not now disguise it From myself Some subtle feeling Manifested itself Then the current drew Sharply away from me With her mystery-Back out into the open sea Yet-, still it roared back at me! It was an expressed release It made my head swim I noticed it kept-step With my exultation!?#761 7/14/2005Notes: There are mysteries to the sea, at times it seems as to have its own mind, its own character; as if nature was plugged into all that exist. Earth itself being an entity with its own lively soul. Two Poems: San Jeronimo Brook & [in English and Spanish] Fair Andes! Thy arms reach highOf iron-woven solid stoneThu art a condor to the skyOf glory hidden in thy heartSo many paths, a maze of art?In thy old, Mantaro ValleyWhere adobes, breathe and trembleBeyond your rustic shadowsThere lays the prettiest of brooksIs my heart, within its stream!My image deeply carved, rippledIn its undiluted shallow watersWaiting, just waiting for me?As it opens up, opens up my soulMy rippled soul-searching-eyes!.. Poetry "Reborn" Emerges In Thriller Mystery Novel Since Mohamed Ali-then Cassius Clay-announced that he had written "The world's shortest poem," I have known that I would be a poet. "ME? WHEE!" His triumphant proclamation evoking shivers within my troubled teenaged identity, for I reasoned in rhyme. Wars, Air of Ambiguity [for: Lt. Laura Walker] in SPANISH and English Wars, air of AmbiguityDedicated to 1st. Lt. Breathing-in, Minnesota [a poem: now in Spanish and English] In early fall, in Minnesota, the rain falls, falls, In buckets, buckets and more buckets-: dropsLikened to music from its many streams-landOf ten-thousand lakes; moistened gravel, gravelEverywhere?Grandpa sits on the porch-daydreaming of, ofSomething, perhaps winter around the corner-;As the flies disappear, with the mosquitoes?Leaves will soon vanish, shadows will come earlyMaybe he's thinking about summer: miles and milesAnd miles and miles of cornfields; his childhood nowLong gone, he hums a hymn, a song; looking at theMetal-piped fence, he made, with three poles, on theEmbankment, leading up the steps to the porch;It's worn-out like him.The winds in Minnesota smell fresh, fresh from allThe foliage, there's a lot of it. Exalted Poetry; Two poem [and commentary] Bells for Belphegor!.. Footprints to Mantaro Valley (a poem in Spanish and English) Footprints to Mantaro Valley(English version)In what retreat art hid?-Where falling mountains groanIn shadow and amongThe rapids of the Rio?Is not your name Mantaro Valley?Beyond the footprints of the Andes--?I can hear your voice in echoesI can hear thy voice, divinely low.I do but know thy by a glanceAs the clouds above me know? . My hero, my best friend, my Grannio (a.k.a my Grandmother) She raised me like I was her own daughter from the day I was born 32 years ago.She loved me like nobody else has ever loved me in my life. The Spirits de Copan Part oneI see them in the skiesI hear them in their hellsThey whisper and they moanAnd never are alone-The Spirits and the Ghouls?The Spirits de Copan!They are shadows in my worldEchoes in my dreamsA mystery and a forceTo a cosmic happening!The Spirits and the Ghouls?The Spirits de Copan!.. Caught in the Arms of ED YOU MIGHT THINK I AM STRONGI THINK YOU GOT IT WRONGI LIVE LIFE DAY TO DAYHOPING IT WILL GO MY WAYI HAVE MY FRIENDS AND MY FOOD PLANMY THERAPIST AND MY THOUGHTSMY EXERCISE AND MY EXCITEMENTTHEN SOMETHING HAPPENS AND I GET CAUGHTCAUGHT IN THE ARMS OF EDTURNING MY EYES AWAYFROM MY FOCUS TO WIN THE FIGHTTHAT I THOUGHT WAS GOING TO STAY.HE TELLS ME THAT I AM SELFISHTHAT I SHOULD DOUBT MY EVERY MOVEONE MINUTE I AM HAPPYDO I HAVE A RIGHT TO FEEL THIS GOOD?DOUBTING MY STRENGTH AND CONFIDENCEAS ED ALWAYS KNEW I WOULDI AM LOSING INCHES AROUND MY WAISTAND MY PANTS ARE FALLING OFFI SEE THE FACE OF ED IN MY HEADAS HE BEGINS TO LAUGH AND SCOFFYOU THINK YOU ARE GOING STRONGYOU THINK YOU GOT ME BEATLET ME SEE YOU LOSE EVEN MOREYOU WILL SEE THAT YOU WERE WRONG. Never Ever More Once upon a midnight dreary, coffee cold and vision bleary, all night sat there writing COBOL, coding spread across the bed sheets, changing syntax for the mainframe,having checked my final line, I took the floppy from the drive.Typing with a steady hand,I then invoked the SAVE command,but there below my effectuation,appeared the cryptic communication,"Abort, Retry, Ignore" and nothing more. Two Poems: Boyhood, and Old Age [with a note on style] BoyhoodOh me! Thy glorious days have flown!I mealy noticed, now they're gone,How quickly passed the flowers!Time does not stop youth's bells;It was like I was in a spell,And my face now shows the hours!Ah yes! My youthful past days,Still lively in my golden age,When all was quick and newNow wrapped in pictures and books,And friends and family were all I knewAnd love was shown by friendly looks!#741 6/26/05Old AgeThey stop by to see me nowTo find what's old and new,They peer into my-everything, And criticize my views;They tell me what I should like,And that I should be grieved-These are my fragile friends That takes the strongest liberties?I mean to take the buzzer off;And put the phone outside the door;In vain I speak to tell them why-I shan't live here anymore!#742 6/26/05A note on Style: some people ask, "What style of poetry to you like the best?" I can never answer that question; it is open-ended to me. If I feel like breaking free from tradition as in the poem of: "Old Age," so be it; and if I feel traditional verse, a stricter formal pattern should be used, as in "Boyhood," and can contribute richly to the poem, so it is. Little Girl from Huancayo [a poem/in English and Spanish] Little girl from HuancayoDo you really, really know?Just how fast those feet will grow,On the streets of Huancayo.Little girl with jumping jacksOn the street, looking back;Back to see whose watching her,A little boy with a bird. Opposites Do Attract Quite Well When I am climbing up, you are stepping down.When I wear a smile, you wear a frown. Death & the Supernatural: Poetry/Five Poems Supernatural PoetryHere are five poems,-what I call-death and supernatural poems. Perhaps a bit bizarre, a few stanzas may be, but with unfailing subtlety of course, and a ting of acuteness, but we have to hag on if we want a good ride:1. |
home | site map | contact us |