Monday 28 April 2014

Of two poems made last March

Of two poems made last March


It was last month when this writer had made these two set of poems.

Made last March 8 and at the following day, this writer had revisited his interest in making poems as a respite all after making a series of writeups if not sketching and wandering around searching for an idea. Obviously, poetry is one of his favorite interest although most of his friends and colleagues in the struggle love to see his sketches instead.

However, unlike his earlier poems, seems that the two reminds of a primary school textbook paragraphs searching for rhyming words at the end. This writer should had thanked the author of that textbook whose paragraphs in a poem served as its basis on those two works made for a respite.

Here it goes:



"All after the love month"

Perhaps the one from the all steel church cares.

And this writer is thankful despite all odds trying to spare.

Some may ought to criticize and gave a different suggestion.

Yet obviously doesn't understand how come this being chose that person?

Despite recalling the hell of others that had left a tremeandous wreck

That person cares, tends wounds, and leaves a heart in check.

Whom bring joys that is beyond the parameters of love

To a love trying to be meaningful like no other from below nor above

Yes it may deemed assuming seeing events and anything

But come to think of this, how come one afford to act so true unlike the other whom assume for something?

That somehow for this being felt happy like the other yesterday.

Leaving blossoms as a token what someone's heart ought convey.



"Tempted!"

Seems that the shadows tempted this person

And end suffer in his delusions

Senses darkened by temptations

Casted by hidden voices creating anger and accusations

Had trying to restrict and making a mind close

Yet still end up endless remorse

Yes, this person gone sinned, mind in distress

That in the end in cold depths of hell suffered from his mess

All started back then when that being was young

What a good mind he has yet turns out foolishness unsung

Of praises and anger, rewards threats had knew

Lies the dark thought overcome the bright as he grew

So strange that from the first successes comes succeeding failures

Of pain and unlikely sounds trying to lie low through the ears

Yes, this person gone sinned, mind in distress

That in the end in cold depths of hell suffered from his mess