Poetry Blogs (2017, rose)

Black And White

A hundred thoughts in my mind

Yet struggling to pen down some lines.

There is this rainbow, all over me;

But I am all white

Just being black and white.

 

Bullet is cheaper than love;

Tears wiping away smiles.

Death winning over life;

But I am alright, 

Just being black and white.

 

A hundred arrows pierced my heart;

Haven't split a pint of blood, yet

Gazin...

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black and whitelosspainrainbowrosewar

Men’s true measure((Ben Jonson)/Translation in Amharic/Alem/የሰው ትክክለኛ መስፈርት


It is not like a tree
In bulk doth make man better be,
Or standing long an oak, three hundred year
To fall a log at last, dry, bald and sere,
A lily of a day
Is fairer far in May,
Although it fall and die that night—
It was the plant and flower of light.
In small proportions we just beauties see
And in short measures life may perfect be.//

የሰው ትክክለኛ መስፈርት


እንደዛፍ መግዘፍ
ሠውን አያደርገውም ከፍ፣
...

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lilyRoseshort

My Baby Boo

Today my heart felt a blow,
By a view so divine.
I let my emotions flow,
Like a 30 year old wine.

There it was in that tiny box,
With pulses of energy shooting through,
That blurry image came across,
Like the inside of a Great Gray Kangaroo.

I felt her hand touching mine,
Held her hand - fingers entwined,
Watching my angel wriggle and shine,
With the life of Us combined.

Seeing y...

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angelarmsbabyblowblurrybooboxbrightchestclosecrydivineemotionsflyfuturehandheartholdimagekissinglifeLordlovemothernightplanpulsesroseshineshootingtinytouchingusviewwineyou

Garden Thoughts

lost spots of sunlight

dreamed into a flower

how a rose is born

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naturerose

Yellow Rose

A little yellow rose,

in the dead center,

of an emerald garden.

 

Dying for attention,

from the golden sun.

 

Like a little boy,

crying for his mother.

 

I'm freakish and dazed,

shy and awkward silence,

like a teenage boy on his date.

 

I would say how I feel,

but I lack the words,

to express me.

 

And everything I say,

comes out as awkward ...

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roseself reflection

The rose bush

entry picture

The fierce wind blows, yet the dew won't dry
On the petals of the lone rose blossom.
Sparse thorns stand raw, achy reminders
Of the wondrous lost dream of yesterday,
When the two golden birds sat on this branch
Staring into the infinite mirror of their eyes,
Rejoicing in the warmth of their evening song,
Delighting in each other's pure presence,
Basking in the divine light of Nature,
And looking up to the ...

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