All Poems

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Sonnet II: Farewell Song

© Sukasah Syahdan

Let me for somewhere I should stroll
Bid thee farewell. You, eternal wonder
that enthralls my soul, will always tolls
like a muezzins serene call yonder.

Sonnet I: Love Song

© Sukasah Syahdan

Shalt Cupid be blamed thou doth dominate
Dwelling in days and nights with dignity?
With this self as my only best comrade,
I treasure thy fancy as whate'er means beauty.

A Letter

© Sukasah Syahdan

a penny for your thoughts my dear how are you
got things to tell got to stand naked before you
disintegration now depicts my inner me were you
here you might see no difference within but you

K. A.

© Sukasah Syahdan

When my sun rises I dont mind perishing
As long as I can embrace you till the end
And my heart can shout loud: I have loved.

Memorials Of A Tour Of Scotland, 1803 VI. Glen-Almain, Or, The Narrow Glen

© William Wordsworth

IN this still place, remote from men,
Sleeps Ossian, in the NARROW GLEN;
In this still place, where murmurs on
But one meek streamlet, only one:

Once Upon a Time I

© Sukasah Syahdan

once upon a time I
saw a first flower undress
in slow motion naked colour

Address To The Dalziel Brothers

© Dante Gabriel Rossetti

O WOODMAN, spare that block,
Oh gash not anyhow!
It took ten days by clock,
I'd fain protect it now.
ChorusWild Laughter from Dalziel's Workshop.

Good Bye

© Sukasah Syahdan

Remember the old drunk at your church
who elbowed me on the ribs
and muttered something I undestood not?
You said he meant he wanted to talk to God
I returned his with mine and said "Me too"

Sonnet VII: The Face of All the World

© Elizabeth Barrett Browning

The face of all the world is changed, I think,

Since first I heard the footsteps of thy soul

On Stopping Here

© Sukasah Syahdan

To: WBYWalking up your life girdle you may then
get tired or just need to look down
to see how far you have stepped
or how high you have elevated

Tudod-e?

© Sukasah Syahdan

Your oft-repeated bocsánat
has grown me sick; it keeps
reminding me of a religious teaching.
God the ever pardoning

Heine's "Widow Or Daughter?"

© Eugene Field

Shall I woo the one or other?
Both attract me-more's the pity!
Pretty is the widowed mother,
And the daughter, too, is pretty.

First Impressions: Budapest 1992

© Sukasah Syahdan

is many a love-struck couple kissing and hugging with passion by the Margit híd;

True there are books and books. Theres Gray,
For instance, and theres Bacon;
Theres Longfellow, and Monstrelet,
And also Coltons Lacon,
With Laws of Whist and those of Libel,
And Euclid, and the Mormon Bible.

Of Love & Sex

said once a friend of mine
that love was just a bucket of bullshit; then I--
thought about his parents
wrote once a neighbour poet
that sex was a thing overrated; so I--
asked for her other poems