Job, room, job and room haha what a life. I am so sorry to many in not
commenting on their sites. My sincere apologies to all of you. I will
be free by the end of the day tomorrow as it is a short week. Because
of the short week job kinda tightened up on my neck. Said that, I still
managed to pull one old poem and gave a revision to it. This poem was
never posted anywhere and I kinda totally forgot about it. Last night
before sleeping when I was looking in my archive folder I found it. I
wrote it way back in 2000. I may later modify it. But for the time
being it is still readable. This one is from the short poems group for
those who have only little time to read. They know who they are, haha.
Here it is.
Curses.
Hopes, Wishes, Dreams and everything else in it,
They all live their moment and die away,
Memories about the reasons for all,
Make them all curses, haunting mind, day and night.
In this wilderness of the world,
Compassion slaves the mind,
And loses its meaning,
As every feeling attaches to a wish,
That in turn weaves a dream,
Which blooms hopes on hopes,
And affection sprouting out of attachments.
The thoughts of lost attachments lingers on,
What keeps it alive is a mind boggling mystery,
As most of them existed in those curses,
Into this life, only one more curse I could construct,
When from the depths of my heart I feel,
A dream filled with hopes and wish being weaved,
By the love of mine for you.
ooh curses! I noticed your birthday is febuary 14! that’s also my friend’s birthday and valentine’s day as well!
ooh i like the first verse a lot, well and the second too…haha i like this. it spoke to me, i’m not quite sure why. “as every feeling attaches to a wish” i liked that line a lot. bravo!
The last four lines of the poem really flow beautifully and elegantly. You can almost feel the sorrow the speaker has for constructing his “curse” of love, and it captivated me. It’s almost the perfect closure.
As always, beautiful.
“compassion slaves the mind” . . .still thinking about that one
This has the sentiment of one who wishes to forget times of happiness yet cherishes the moments – even though they torture the soul. It seems that is how things really are, no changing the fact that happiness is truly just a fleeting moment. Add them all together and you can make a popcorn string for the holidays :o)~
~*NW*~
Wonderful poem and a great site. I love finding blogs with substance!