scent of a woman

anOmis · November 2003

IF U C HIM
little bird that u fly up there
in the celestial paths
when u pass throu love's yard
and the crystal castle of lust

if c see him please give him a kiss
tell him he gives me a reason to live

morning dew nourishes the flowers
his gaze i need every single hour
like a sweet flowerscent his breath
like a beloved , withered leafscent

oh and when he looks at me..
looks into my eyes
blood of this heart of mine
the earth and the clouds smile
my beloved, when he looks at me,
the whole world smiles

fresh water that u gently flow
in your cool crystal paths
if he bathes when u go past
stop and look at his eyes
tell him he gives me a reason to live

anOmis · November 2003

THE GAME
I wake up in the morning
early inthe morning i wake up and rise
my love woke me up in the middle of the night
and came to me with the first shades of light

inside my mind the game lives
and fills my eyes with pain
in unspoken words, deep in my heart
where the sadness lie stagnant like rain

inside my mind the game lives

anOmis · November 2003

MY BABE AND THE LILSTAR
on the snow my sweet babe sleeps
the myths and the gods bathe in his dream

south and north silver and silk will bring
and the morning star lights up his dream

on the snow his figure tracks leave
to find their ways the caresses of spring

and leave on the pillow a bright star
for luck to find his way to come

the wind shakes the willows and the grass
the rocks whisper whishes in the night

give my babe lilstar wings to fly
and in his deep sleep gently will sigh

loveandrew-wood · November 2003

you soul is yearning a bit in hear
very beautiful poetry

in jesus name amen

anOmis · November 2003

~~petals of the white rose~~

u have left yer heart print on me...

Dreaming by the morning - soon
starin at the pale moon
so pale in the gloom...
Petals of the white rose

Stretching at the sun light smiles
reflecting on its dew drop tilles
a glow that can be seen for miles
The awaking of the white rose

Delicate as the summer breeze
pearly white of rare genes
a queen within the garden green
the blooming of the white rose

Soft as love you give it ,when
hearts should touch a lonely friend
before the gift of life might end
The message of the white rose

As we cry these tender woes
and say goodbye to the ones we love
they'll fly wherever spirits go
On petals of a soft white rose.

dont cut this rose....

coleen · November 2003

really great poems - i especially enjoyed my babe and the lilstar and the petals of the white rose.

anOmis · December 2003

The winter has hosted my soul
and the memories tickle my mind
Regrets may be the only cosullers
my future, far away, my everlasting Rose

why poeple blame what they cannot understand?

the cblood of love has filled me in purple
and joys that some people have never seen before have covered me .
I've become a ghost in the south wind of humankind
my dearest far away, my everlasting Rose.

-why does soul wonder every nite in regrets?

On the open sea they lay iin "nostos" for me,
with triple-masked men-of-war they bombarded me,
my sin is that I had a love of my own
Mother far away, my everlasting Rose.

-why nemesis is blind?

Once in december his large eyes
half-opened, deep down my soul, to light up
the virgin life for a single moment
Brother far away, my Everlasting Rose.

And since that day the pain of loss
has turned on me, shouting out the curse:
"He who left, let him live in blood and stone"
Ripping off the petals of my Everlasting rose

tenaciousA · December 2003

really enjoyed these...
thanks

anOmis · January 2004

Darkened clouds, wind and rain.
Left alone with all this pain.
It’s winter here without you.

Landslides always drag me down
Trapped for days, will I be found ?
I pray for skies of blue.

Flooded plains within my head
nitemares draw near, leave me for dead.
I feel lost inside of you.

Drought from tears I know not for
I’ve cried for days, I cry no more.
I’ve made mistakes, it’s true...

Saddow waves dance on my shore
I’m drowning on my bedroom floor.
Pain and pleasure mixed together

This natural bridge from heart to heart
Collapsed in memories, fallen apart
These seasons last forever.

yes...the poet knows...

anOmis · January 2004

the heart of a friend

silken paths
unspoken words
and you standing in the middle ...

red sun
hidden moom
and the smile of a a friend...

the knowledge of the past
the feear of tomorrow
and our coffee talks...

i miss those longs walks by the river side
i miss seing you smiling
i miss my freind

coz the heart of a friend is like a rosegarden
can make u bleed ...
can bring this sensitive odour
of melancholy...

anOmis · January 2004

We're all just a little alike
And yet enough apart
That we can break eachother's heart

It's expectations we invent
That do the damage to our psyche
Betray our souls right from the start

All the pent up passion
All the wild reaction

You have no idea what it is like
To be tough; To be hard
To have to always be on your guard

anOmis · January 2004

seems to have anything to say about my poems..
or maybe noone really reads them...

anOmis · January 2004

So harbored
Those notorious vestiges
Of complacency
The tried-and-true
Behaviors we once subscribed to
May need modifying

Can we break on through?
Can we brave the new
And not yet trodden
Path of not yet known
Resistence?
Take control of our existence?

Is the we

p.s.if anyone wants to add anything please do not hesitate.
even corrections or not very flattering opninions are welcome...
just to know that someone gives a few minutes of his time to read me, its a bless

anOmis · January 2004

Nightwords and atonment
for dead gods, angels
and vertical conjcture

Horizontal writings, confining
impulses and choices we
were ever so forced
into never made it to daylight

Slaveshakened, dreams streaming
through the fingertips much
like the sensation of fear
on a cold silent sunday

p.s..neone read me..anyone?

EvilToasterElf · January 2004

Don't worry, if you look at most of the poems on here, there's only two or three responses, not many people are on this board - but jesus slow down - this is too much to take in - the few at the top I read were very promising I'll get back to you when I get through more - don't be discouraged - there aren't too many of us here

EvilToasterElf · January 2004

Ok, I'm up to petals of the white rose

pearly white of rare genes is the only line I have qualms with I think - everything else fits pretty naturally into the rhythm and rhyme scheme but that particular line trips me up when I read it, one two few syllables - great sentiment though

anOmis · January 2004

4 yer time and your comments...

FinsburyParkCarrots · January 2004

I'm going to print these poems off and read them properly, again and again. They're beautiful.

anOmis · January 2004

coming from you its means a lot...

anOmis · January 2004

And it was down the rosy path
And it was in the hidden pastimes
Of forever

Where we barely chose to go
But on remembering we sat there
For enough time to absorb

What hidden moments were in store
For some begotten of the fate
That layed forgotten in the wisdom
Of convention

And every time we dared go back
The moment wasn't there to find
Nor would the feeling gain momentum
As if it wanted us to leave
And grow beyond

And nod towards the next horizon
As the path we ought to tred
For here is past and grave
And fleeting

And shacks of promise understood
That housed a wonderful exception
To the stagnant rule

And it was down the rosy path
And it was in the hidden pastimes
Of forever

Where we barely chose to go
But on remembering we sat there
For enough time to absorb

What hidden moments were in store
For some begotten of the fate
That layed forgotten in the wisdom
Of convention

And every time we dared go back
The moment wasn't there to find
Nor would the feeling gain momentum
As if it wanted us to leave
And grow beyond

And nod towards the next horizon
As the path we ought to tred
For here is past and grave
And fleeting

And shacks of promise understood
That housed a wonderful exception
To the stagnant rule

FinsburyParkCarrots · January 2004

Your ability to use language as a means of expressing the imagistic landscape of sensibility is considerable; in fact, it may be because English is not your first language that you are able to create beautiful tonal effects with words, in finding new idioms in this language to convey those in your own. There are other writers - such as Joseph Conrad, who of course was Polish - whose writings in English exemplify and even perhaps define what we now call modernist literature. You make this language all that much more capable of seeing the world.

I enjoy the imagery of your poem beginning "nightwords and atonement". If I might here paraphrase Henry James, it "tells" of an idea by "showing" it through images rather than by rhetoric. And I think that's the mark of the poetry I like the best.

Thankyou.

scent of a woman

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