All Poems
/ page 2541 of 3210 /
Reminiscence
© Sukasah Syahdan
I am reminiscing you; and the little boy who often stole some change from the left pocket of your pants that would hang behind the door in the front room; his pride in bringing home for Mom, his three brothers and as many sisters, a plastic bagful of bananas or oranges from the money hed stolen; the one afternoon you once asked him about the vanishing money; how he could bring home oleh-oleh for the family; the childish lies and made-up stories; and the relief he felt when you did not pursue the truth hidden in his pinkish heart
The Oak and the Rose
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
An oak tree and a rosebush grew,
Young and green together,
Talking the talk of growing things-
Wind and water and weather.
The News
© Sukasah Syahdan
1)
eleven forty-five a.m.
someone sent me news
through the rain: good mourning!
Lyric of Action
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
'Tis the part of a coward to brood
O'er the past that is withered and dead:
Kitanomaru Park
© Sukasah Syahdan
two-three Japanese frogs
suspended their croaks
and returned the quiet
to the nearby loch
A Negress
© Stéphane Mallarme
Possessed by a demon a negress
Wants to taste a girl-child saddened by new fruits
Unlawful ones too under the ragged dress,
This gluttons ready to try a trick or two:
Dream
© Sukasah Syahdan
last night I dreamed
that I dreamed that I awoke
a sleepless man writing about what
I dreamed last night
Poem for My Wife
© Sukasah Syahdan
Notes:
* Meat Cages (Sangkar Daging) is also title of a poem by a West Sumatran poet Gus Tf.
** Joko Pinurbo is an Indonesian poet known for his witty poems gravitating on pants.
On A Portrait
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
A widower muses over the likeness of his dead wife.
THE face, the beautiful face,
In its living flush and glow,
The perfect face in its peerless grace
Where Children Play
© Edgar Albert Guest
On every street there's a certain place
Where the children gather to romp and race;
Kemang Afternoon Blues
© Sukasah Syahdan
1/
Had it not been for the traffic jam
You'd have thought being elsewhere
Most the niceties seemed so foreign
Speaking a tongue so unfamiliar
A Spirit Passed Before Me [From Job]
© George Gordon Byron
A spirit passed before me: I beheld
The face of immortality unveiled--
Deep sleep came down on every eye save mine--
And there it stood,--all formless--but divine:
Along my bones the creeping flesh did quake;
And as my damp hair stiffened, thus it spake:
A Brief History of Gods
© Sukasah Syahdan
First, we worshipped the inanimate.
Next, we learned to worship the gods
Later, we discovered the Deity.
Then, dazzled by our own Reason
Of The Nature Of Things: Book I - Part 06 - Confutation Of Other Philosophers
© Lucretius
And on such grounds it is that those who held
The stuff of things is fire, and out of fire
Sorry
© Sukasah Syahdan
Please forgive us should You find this insolent
Or see no tears we shed after the latest trick of Yours
But writhing inside, we have been guessing the motive
Eeach time one disaster rallies against another;
Genesis BK V
© Caedmon
(ll. 235-236) "…Eat freely of the fruit of every other tree.
From that one tree refrain. Beware of its fruit. And ye shall
know no dearth of pleasant things."
Empty
© Sukasah Syahdan
I have let her, the kid unstopper me
thinking she would drink me up and part of her I'd be;
I am now an empty bottle all right
the rest of me your crippled dog instead
The Instructor
© Rudyard Kipling
At times when under cover I 'ave said,
To keep my spirits up an' raise a laugh,
'Earin 'im pass so busy over-'ead-
Old Nickel-Neck, 'oo is n't on the Staff -
"There's one above is greater than us all"
Everybody is an Ezing!
© Sukasah Syahdan
everybody is an Ezing to themselves!
oh yes, because reality does not exist,
oh no, even when it seems so.
only action happens, even when it doesn't.
The Sculptor.
© Arthur Henry Adams
O'er the Eastern hills of light
While the dim world slept
Dawn the sculptor stepped,
And the shapeless block of Night
Chiselled into form
Morning-lit and warm.
