How I wonder what he's doingas I sit alone at night.How I wonder who he's seeingHow I wonder if I'm right.How I wonder if he's everthought of coming home again,and I wonder if he doesn'tcan my heart mend yet again.
Lord, I know that You have told meone for love - that one for life,but that one he doesn't want medoesn't care about his wife,and You know how that part hurts mehow it cuts me like a knifehow I long to just be with himwith the one who has my life.
Lord, I want to stop this crying,Lord, I want to stop the pain,Lord I want to stop the sighing,Lord, I want to love again.
But the pain goes on forever,stopping only for a whileand I try my best to hide it,behind a friendly smile.But You and I know betterhow the tears still fall like rain,only You and I know how muchmy heart breaks from all the pain.Only You know how much torturemy body and my soul can stand,and You've promised for all trialsthat I can take Your hand.
And I'm reaching out now Jesusbecause I sure do need a friend,and I'm tired of all the heartacheand I pray that it will end.
But I know You hold the futureand my life is in Your handsand I'll try my best to followall the things Your Word commands.And I know that I will falterand I know You'll pick me upas I do my best to followand to drink life from Your cup
Copyright Fran Watson
Two Poems: San Jeronimo Brook & [in English and Spanish]
Fair Andes! Thy arms reach high
Since Youve Been Gone...
My life has changedin so so many waysIt seems to always bein a state of disarray...
Way of Life: Rhymes of the Inca [four poems: see in Spanish and English NOW!]
Way of Life: Rhymes of the Inca
Review Of Stephen B. Wileys First Book Of Poetry: HERO ISLAND
Poet Stephen B. Wiley's first book of poetry, Hero Island, reflects tender snapshots and reminiscent overviews of various stages of his life as a youngster working on a farm in New Jersey, summer vacations spent with his family in Northern Vermont, and his positive stance on life.
You make me smilelike I've seldom done beforeYou give me a reasonto want more and more...
Africa - Wheres The Profit?
A poetic comment that just welled up inside my head ? why cant we just do something ? before many more are dead?
The Game of Life
When your life becomes unbearable And the light of promise ceases to glow, When all your dreams and aspirationsLie dormant on ambition's death row.
Three Poems (While in Transition/English and Spanish)
Here are three more poems by the author, Dennis Siluk, while traveling througout Central and South America.
An Old Wood Pile [a poem with notes]
Old skin, once held tightAgainst her skeleton-Rose no more, just drapedLoosely over unpadded flesh;Un-tightened muscles, and tissue,Lost its courage, no-fortitude-,Gone are the days and yearsThat stood against the Indomitable elements; The skeleton, now a landmarkHidden under flesh and bloodGuts and moral fiber, backbone?Collapsed from drudgeryTime, time: cascading inside-.Bones now leaving impressionsAccepting fateLike tarnished silver!...Hands look like autumn leavesFallen from a treeWinter's around the cornerThe door of time is closingLike an old wood pileBeing burnet up-Hard to open thingsHard to do anythingPrecariously balanced-Painfully slow?
Poetry in a Nutshell
Poetry is more than just rhyming and prose that is in meters and verse. It is an art form. It is something that can not be judged by its cover and can not be critisized to the point where it just "sucks." Poetry is about expression. Poetry expresses the way we feel on a certain subject through imagery and other senses. It helps us deal with our daily problems, be it good or bad.
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.
Footprints to Mantaro Valley (a poem in Spanish and English)
Footprints to Mantaro Valley(English version)
Ceasar Vallejo: Black Roses [In English and Spanish]
Cesar Vallejo: Black Roses
In The Midst Of All
In the midst of darkness, there is light. In the midst of evil, there is virtue.In the midst of war, there is peace.In the midst of agony, there is ecstasy.
You cannot make someone love you. All you can do is be someone who can be loved. The rest is up to them.
A World That Doesnt Care
War bombs may explode demolishing man and land.Hurricanes may devastate and leave us entirely bare.Earthquakes may devour and swallow up old landmarks.But nothing is as destructive as a world that doesn't care.
Write Your Way to Fame
Have you ever thought about how nice it would be to see your poem discussed in the New York Times? Think you have what it takes to become a famous poet? Well the unfortunate truth is that no one has what it takes to be a famous poet. Here's a little exercise: Name the most famous contemporary poet you can think of. Louise Gluck, Frank Bidart, and Maya Angelou, are all well known poets, but did you even know who all of them were?
Four Poems: Two for the Devil, Two for Peru
Here is some witty poetry (not sure if that is the proper word: witty, but it will do): one poem on the Aztec year 2012, a year that has been in the public's eye quite a lot; one on cloning, and the biblical end time events--which, if I may add seems ripe for the monster events that are said to take place; and two poems dealing with some tradtions of Peru; one imparticular, on vacationing, where not to go; all the makings for some thought.
Daybreak at Pikes Creek [a Poem]
Daybreak at Pikes Creek[Summer of 2005]
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