Monday, October 11
To Anonymous
Sometime back I had a mail from a friend that contained a poem from an anonymous. This poem had moved me so much and I would like to share it:
Empty Glass
So many nights I spent alone,
Surrounded by the crowd.
My silent memories haunting
With the music playing loud.
Holding on to broken dreams,
Drinking with my friends.
Forgetting every song they played,
They never seemed to end.
People dancing all around,
While I sat on my stool.
Making toasts that no one heard
And feeling like a fool.
Take a drink to loneliness,
Have a drink on me.
Gaze into the empty glass,
Tell me what you see.
Reflections of a broken heart,
Beating out of tune.
Fill it up again my friend,
I must be leaving soon.
Closing time is drawing near,
So pour another round.
Almost crying time again
Unless the memories drown.
One last drink to emptiness,
I feel it closing in.
The glowing warmth of nothingness
Has saved me once again.
I've looked at life in may ways,
But lived it all in dreams.
Escaping from a senseless fear
Of life's realities.
Now I find myself alone,
Imprisoned by the past.
Viewing life through silent tears
And another empty glass.
Share just one more drink with me,
And I'll be going home.
I love to have a drink with friends,
But I have to cry alone
Now this is the message" my poem" I wish I could pass to anonymous:
When I'm alone and jaded
When no where I call home
I crumble in a solemn shell
And silence recites your poem
Copyright :Ruby, 2004
Name::AyyA
From::Kuwait
I AM WHO I AM AS I ARRIVE AT YOUR DOOR WHETHER I COME OR I GO IS NOT UP TO ME FOR I HAVE LOST SIGHT OF ALL DESIRE "Walled Garden of Truth",Hakim Sanai
View my complete profile
19 Comments:
it rings all so true..
empty bottles and shattered dreams....i will post it sometime soon on my blog
Yes Mish, it wrenches the heart doesn't it; I just wish I knew who wrote it. So when r u coming to q8
well Rabab, i was booked for today, but im not done with my task at hand, and i dont like to leave things half done, not to mention i will get my arse kicked if i do. i will post on my blog when i know for sure.
It's beautiful (mashalla mashalla) but I wonder, why is it always the "heart-wrenching" poems that we are drawn to and appreciate more than the "happy" ones?
Rabab you can convey your emotions in just four lines (mashalla mashalla) whereas with others (me haha) it takes us paragraphs and paragraphs of B.S. to just convey one emotion. I'm trying to compliment you but I can't find the right words haha so I suck :P
Hey D&G
Wa7i elshe3er mostly yanzil in sad times. That’s why you see most love poems are heart wrenching ones. But I promise you dear I will write soon a comedy typa poem ‘bout my blogger friends. Only need time to know some of’m a bit more, I kinda have the idea in my mind.. bas.. ga3da ten6ebikh.
And I’m waiting for some of your trials in poetry, I’m sure you can do it, if you put your heart to it. I have this sight that I have correspondence with poets around the world, in this sight I positively criticized other’s poetry, and they criticize mine. This way we can all go back and fix our work. As step one I could be your critic until you have enough confidence to go public.. but believe me, once you start you can never stop. Go for it girl.
The dove, white and pure, flying in the air
spreading its wings, across the horizon
landing on a balcony, gazing, wondering
who might she be, why is she so alone, why?
The dove, white and pure, enters the room
three steps on the floor, across the hall
stares at the lady from below, wondering, poundering
who might she be, why is she so alone, why?
The dove, white and pure, jumps above
sitting on her shoulder, across her face
pinches the lady from aside, wondering, poundering
who might she be, why is she so alone, why?
The dove, white and pure, opens its wings
cloaks her face, across her eyes
Light, light, light, light, light
No more wondering, no more loneliness, no more, no more.... no more.
Purgatory72 aka space poet
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It's quarter to three,
There's no one in the place 'cept you and me
So set 'em' up joe
I got a little story i think you oughtta know
We're drinking my friend
To the end of a brief episode
So make it one for my baby
And one more for the road
I know the routine
Put another nickel in that there machine
I'm feeling so bad
Won't you make the music easy and sad
I could tell you a lot
But you gotta to be true to your code
So make it one for my baby
And one more for the road
You'd never know it
But buddy i'm a kind of poet
And i've got a lot of things i wanna say
And if i'm gloomy, please listen to me
Till it's all, all talked away
Well, that's how it goes
And joe i know you're gettin' anxious to close
So thanks for the cheer
I hope you didn't mind
My bending your ear
But this torch that i found
It's gotta be drowned
Or it soon might explode
So make it one for my baby
And one more for the road
RIP Frankie ole blue eyes
P72
Very impressive indeed, but the story did not end there ;D
The lady being nice and polite
Places the dove on her arm
So she could see him in the light
And he could feel her truthful charm
She tells him" loneliness is a choice
That she whole heartedly made,
Was not imposed on her by force
More like a bargain to which she paid"
Freedom was the goal of goals;
To live her life the way she sought
An empty balcony and more empty halls
Is the heaven that she bought
Mosan baby shinho hatha, didn't know you had it in you
everyone: very very nice! we should get together sometime and have a few cups of wine and poems.. no starbucks!
Mesh
Sure we're just waiting 4 you. Too bad thatP72 is not here he's going Friday to Netherlands.
P27: RED LIGHT DISTRICT oo BES!! there is this little cafe that sells these weed cookies, brownies, tarts...you name it, if its a pastry it has weed in it!very memorable exprecience..
be forewarned, in amsterdam saddomism and machocrap is really popular when i went. overly inviting girls are dangerous.
also, take it easy on the absynthe. you might think you are hitting on Carmen electra, but in reality its some orca that belongs in a zoo ( i know how that sounded) but absynthe gives mad beer goggles. do bring a bottle back with you.
play it safe and have fun in the real city of sin
mishu1984 I have been living there for five years, so I know the country :) do not worry, I stay away from Amsterdam and sit in my quiet home with my buddy :)
who's ur buddy ;)
Rabab,
I thought you are somewhere else :) buddy is my friend :)
Purg: i feel so stupid all of a sudden.. kind of like telling Michellangelo how to paint the Sistene Chapel...
mishu, no problem, its fine :)
Dearest Rabab,
Thanks for your confidence in me but I really really suck. If I wrote a poem, I KNOW I could make EVERYONE cry but not because of it being a sad poem, but because it's a BAD poem, really really bad. I appreciate your offer, which is truly kind of you bas ya3ny I really really suck. I'm what they call a "hopeless case" :P
As for your comedy poem, I'm really really looking forward to that. Hope ill6ab'7a tin6ibi'7 soon bas of course you can't rush a good chef :P
Thanx D&G, but I still think you have it in you.
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