The Poet

October 25, 2012

I have loved a thousand women;
none of them were real.
I’ve written a thousand lines
around a thousand smiles
and a thousand frowns
around a thousand pairs of eyes.

And with a thousand rhymes,
I’ve lost a thousand times
for none of them did last.
Every love I ever wrote
has faded into past.
And every girl I write to life,
I take to higher climes,
with deeper loves and longer verse
but every foray ends the same
– as though I have been cursed –
for every poem ends in pain,
a trend that’s growing worse.

I have loved a thousand women;
none of them were real.
I’ve written a thousand lines
around a thousand smiles
and a thousand frowns
around a thousand pairs of eyes.

But for a thousand years
or so it seems,
I’ve written only tears.
And a thousand dreams
have left me only fears,
for none have ended happily.
Just like all my poetry;
When the final line is writ
I am left with only me
and any light that might have lit,
once the poem ends, dies with it.
And the thousand loves I’ve brought to be
have all thus waned inevitably.

I have loved a thousand women;
none of them were real.
I’ve written a thousand lines
around a thousand smiles
and a thousand frowns
around a thousand pairs of eyes.

Oh, I have loved a thousand women;
None of them were real.
Not one of them could feel
the love I felt for her.
The heartbeats that I wrote
were never really there
and all the forms my pen caressed
and all the faces fair,
all the golden hair
and all the moments shared
existed only on the page,
the fickle paper stage
I made for them
to dance upon,
for them to love me on –
I, the only one who ever cared.

I have loved a thousand women;
none of them were real.
I’ve written a thousand lines
around a thousand smiles
and a thousand frowns
around a thousand pairs of eyes.

A thousand dreams;
a thousand lines;
a thousand rhymes;
a thousand smiling pairs of eyes;
a thousand women
in my mind.
And if my mind’s where they must be,
then what is in this world for me?
Why live on interminably
if I must be so lonely?
A thousand loves I’ve had;
a thousand lives I’ve lived
and yet I’m left so sad.
For they are all behind
but who’s to say that they weren’t real?
And who’s to say that I won’t find
a thousand more in time?
I only need to write another opening line…

I have loved a thousand women;
all of them were real.
I’ve written a thousand lines
around a thousand smiles.
I’ve lived a thousand lives
and loved a thousand times,
all inside my mind.
So why go back outside?

 

-D&W

Read more: Poetry Here and Now

xvi. Across the World

August 9, 2011

I moved across the world
to where my favorite coffee grew
my favorite flowers unfurled
and my favorite chocolate was made too
and as the dances of fate twisted and twirled
I moved across the world to you.

iv. Prayers

July 11, 2011

My poems
are my prayers
Every time my pen
touches page
my soul lies prostrate
at the feet of my God
for it is God
the almighty creator
that gave me the power of creation
God gave me the vision
to change the world
with my words
and so every time my pen
touches page
I supplicate
I ask for my words to be read,
to be understood
I ask for my readers to be moved
that this world might somehow
come to reflect
my verse
or that my reader might be moved
to improve
for himself or for humanity.

My Poems
are my Prayers
and every time I speak a rhyme
it is a hymn
in honour to my god
for it is God,
commander of the word,
that gave me the power of speech.
God gave me the voice
to command my people –
God’s people.
A voice
to lead a revolution
a voice
to teach a generation
a voice
to sing in veneration
a voice
to show our celebration
of the Universe
we have been given.
Every time I speak a rhyme,
I show the people
how to live
how to love
how to create
for the betterment of man,
woman, child, Earth
and the Universe.

My poems
are my prayers.
Every line I write,
every verse I commit to the page
becomes another installment
to the scriptures of a people
living to understand their god.
Every metaphor
becomes another
name for the creator.
Every metre, every foot
is a prophecy.
Every tear in the eyes of my readers,
every laugh on their lips,
every smile and every frown
is a declaration of faith,
an observation of greatness,
a transcendence,
an ascension.

My Poems
are my prayers.
They are thanks
for the gift
of The Word.