Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness!
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the mossed cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o'erbrimmed their clammy cells.
Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reaped furrow sound asleep,
Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers;
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cider-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings, hours by hours.
Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too, -
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing, and now with treble soft
The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
(By John Keats)
A young, music diva says farewell,
To her temporary worldly abode here,
While her fans are unable to 'tell',
The grief that makes them shed tears.
Amy Winehouse, a singer, a bright star,
Bid her adieu after 27 years,
Gaining little through riches and fame,
And losing a lot to her perceived fears.
Depressed, forlorn and all on her own,
Winehouse could not come to terms,
With the harsh realities of this world,
And fed up, her soul left, without a groan.
Artists, musicians, scientists, thinkers,
Are gifted with a super-sensitive mind,
And some of them are not able to cope,
The grim heartlessness of what they find.
Talented souls with an imagination,
Give so much to this cold and sullen Earth,
Yet all that they get back is dejection,
Deception, ingratitude and hollow mirth.
Elvis, Jackson, Andy Gibbs, Amy,
Are just a few genuine ones out there,
Who came here to leave, weary, lonely,
With admirers, pining, everywhere.
Depression claims one when there is none,
To offer a caring shoulder or true love,
When hypocrisy, selfishness and betrayal,
Like to wreak havoc and enjoy the 'fun'.
Farewell Amy! May your soul find peace,
In the dimension where all of us must go,
I am aware of your shattered self that left,
And why your Maker decided to cease,
The breath which made your heart beat,
And made you see a lot more than what,
An ordinary mortal can even fathom,
You had to leave -- You embraced 'defeat'.
To live in this world -- a falsehood cage,
Is indeed hard for hypersensitive souls,
To survive here one needs more courage,
And tact too -- which can defy damage --
-- Caused by constant back-stabbing,
And treachery along with evil guile,
Amy, like Elvis, you didn't guard yourself,
And fell too soon to envious vile.
(Written and posted by Muhammad Naveed Ahmed/Emmenay on July 25, 2011).
Melody
Gardot and Stacey Kent
Are soothers to disturbed souls.
Norah Jones,
Diana Krall and Barbra Striesand
Are also voices that can heal,
A hurt heart,
A restless spirit,
Fed up with this world's falsehood.
Al Stewart
Is still the same voice,
A voice which I can't forget.
These artistes,
Cannot ever die,
For seekers of peace, like me.
In my quest,
For beauy-truth, truth-beauty,
These singers make life easy.
Love complains,
Says I don't need her,
One day she will know the truth.
Till then, I,
Must find some solace,
So thank you to all singers:
Stacey Kent,
Ms. Jones, Krall and Saigal,
Ms Gardot,
And Barbra Streisand,
And pathos-filled Al Stewart.
And thank you,
To my friend "Donna',
For reverting me to my goal.
Mystic Cross
In my palms foretells,
The destiny which is mine.
Orpheus*,
Rumi* and Ghalib*,
Iqbal*, Pushkin* and Kabeer*
And Khayyam*,
Faiz Ahmed Faiz*, Faraz
Meer Taqi Meer and Majaz*
We all are,
Soul companions,
Like the Bard, Keats, Emily.
We seek peace,
And tranquility,
For not just us, but for all.
(Written and posted by Muhammad Naveed Ahmed/Emmenay on May 3, 2011).
Writing. When one writes; why do they write, who are they writing for, what is their muse? The experiences of the writer and the reader will effect what they feel comes from the piece. As time progresses and lives change for the good and for the bad what one feels from and about the piece will also change.
Nearly seven years ago I wrote a poem, it was an important poem to me because it was the first thing I ever wrote that I liked (1). When I wrote it I was depressed and had felt the depression would never end, that nothing ever changed and there would only be pain in life. Now when I go back and read my poem again having had more pain in life, but also joy and happiness I see how the poem still holds true just with a different meaning than it once held; no longer a poem of pain and tears but one of growth and healing even if it takes time.
When a writer writes they pour their heart, soul, and feelings into whatever it is they are writing. When someone reads what was written what they feel will effect how they read it and how it effects them, even if it was not the intended meaning of the piece. As time progresses the piece will also effect the writer differently in such a way that they have grown, changed, and aged.
A poem from my childhood that my father would recite to me meant little more than my father spending time with me when I was a child (2). After I lost my father I lost the poem, years later it found me and would mean many different things over the years, now the poem itself is just nicely written words flowing across the page but the memory of the night laying in bed having it recited to me means more to me than the words themselves ever could.
When a writer writes, do they know how their thoughts will effect lives throughout the years? Hearing a song starting with a poem being recited (3) and reading a book where two characters discuss the same poem (4) we can even see how the one written piece can effect others in ways beyond the original poem itself (5).
There is no right or wrong way to write or to feel about what was written, as your life changes you will change and what you see and feel will change along with it. What is one man's Byron will be another man's Clancy. So part now from reading this knowing that literature and writing will forever change and that you will change with it.
Sitting here shaking
Cause I forgot to think of you.
Sitting here listening
to the sound of my own breath
wishing that ghastly sound would stop,
because yours almost did...
I feel utterly terrible
cause time slipped right by me,
not once but twice...
Am I mentally sane?..
I wish I had a pack of cigarettes..
That way I could possiblely smoke quiet a few,
Get sick and throw up and cry.
I know now I'm not an angel,
because I forgot to stop
and think of you...
And think if you were worried
or possiblely even hurt...
or worse...
and if worse would have happened..
I'd have never known...
Now; I don't even know if I'm worth it...
because I lose track of time..
I want to cut..feel the burn prickle
a top of my skin and watch
what emotion looks like..
I'm sorry won't cut it..
or perhaps it will..
glitter-graphics.com
~Ronnie~
(Dedication Acrostic)
R-onnie, remember her voice,and infectious laughter.There was not
O-ther best friend like she was and never will be for me anymore.She was so
N-atural, sweet and caring,a beautiful human being.She was truly
N-ice, best friend that anyone would like to have around all the time.And
I-n my heart and memories you, Ronnie, will always remain and live.
E-arthly and full of games and fun she was.She knew how to live life to the fullest and she did..
C-ourageous and brave, she was like a breeze of fresh air.She was a true and loyal friend.
O-n any given day she was always willing to help and give a hand to you or me.
G-reat memories and times we enjoyed for many years.How she laughed and joked!Your
E-ntire life she always tried to do and be her best in everything.We surely had fun with family!
R-onnie was my best friend and she was my sis.I loved her very much and miss her terribly.
T-oday, and everyday of my life I will always love and remember her forever.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2010
March 19,2010
Author notes:
This is my loving tribute poem, to my sis and best friend ever,Ronnie Cogert.I do thank God so much
for letting me know her personally for all those wonderful years.She was a blessing!
I just wish with all my heart that she was still here with her beloved and sweet daughter Jennifer,and with
all of us, who truly loved her and appreciated her very much and always will.We all love you Jenni!
R.I.P. Ronnie, my very sweet,best friend!You were truly more than a blood sister to me!
glitter-graphics.com
~He Had To Go~
(Monotetra)
He's gone and buried O, how sad
Facts are hidden,there's more to add
News of his death made world mad
This is so sad, this is so sad
There's no King of Pop now
Save he lives in our heart we know
And his music forever will flow
He had to go, he had to go
Nothing can stop in heart the tears
He's at rest and has no more cares
My heart finds solace in prayers
Short were his years, short were his years
He's sleeping at peace while we cry
It is hard for us to say good-bye
Hearing his music makes me sigh!
He just can't die,he just can't die.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2009
September 14,2009
glitter-graphics.com
~Sir Charles(Charlie)Spencer Chaplin~
(Acrostic)
C-harlie Chaplin as it was better known made
H-is name famous in the early 20's in the silent screen.His
A-cting career took off from then on,right from 1895 to 1976
R-espectively he was not just a comic actor but during his
L-ong lifetime career.Sir Charles(Charlie)Spencer Chaplin was
E-nglish,born in Walworth, London,England.Besides an actor, he was a
S-creenwriter,film director,producer,composer and mime.All during his long
C-areer he was one of the most influencial figures in the silent film era.
H-e was a great gift of comedy all thru a worn- torn war world and after
A-nd he acted and directed, he composed a lot of music for many films.His
P-rivate life later on was filled of so much adulation and controversy so much that
L-ater on, this forced him to resettled back in Europe.The American Film
I-nstitute, ranked Chaplin as the 10th greatest male screen legend of all times.
N-ever before or after the Great Depression,had been a an actor quite like him.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2010
March 6,2010
(Born: April 16,1889-Died: December 25,1977)
Author Notes:
My poem tribute, to one of the most remarkable
actor of all times,"Charlie Chaplin" also remembered
and known by his unforgettable character role of the
"Little Tramp" in the silent film era.I had really
enjoyed so much watching his funny and delightful
comedy films over the years.
R.I.P. Charlie Chaplin!
~Michael Landon~
(Acrostic poem)
M-ichal was a famous American actor,director,producer and writer. He was born
I-n Forest Hill, New York.During his early childhood and years he
C-onquered great challenges in many ways while
H-e grew up in Collingswood, N.J. but he made it throughout all of them,
A-nd developed a great sense of humor,as a shield,against a world he thought often cruel
E-ugene Maurice Orowitz, was his real given name, but much
L-ater on, in his life he would change it to Michael Landon
L-ittle House In the Prarie,brought him more to fame all over,even when
A-nd years before he's starred as little Joe, in the popular t.v.serie "Bonanza."
N-eedless to say he was a great actor, and kind human being.He was very much
D-evoted to his family and every role that he worked and much created
O-n all his long years as one of the biggest and most celebrated tv stars ever
N-one of us will forget his engaging smile and heart warming role in L.H.I. the Prarie.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
Copyright@2010
March 6,2010
Years active: 1956-1991
(October 31,1991-July 1, 1991)
Author Notes:
As long as I can remember growing up as a child, I watched him
in Bonanza,as the sweet and kind-hearted Little Joe.And then
later on I just loved him more and followed him more in his
role as the most wonderful father, ever in his unforgettable role
of Papa Charles, in the Little House in the Prarie."
I just loved and admired Michael Landon all my life,and respected
him no matter what.He had so many wonderful qualities to dim all of