Past Poems
Goodbyes We Never Saw Coming
by Siddhi Beri
Seven weeks flew by too fast,
Though, I begged each moment to last.
They became much more than friends,
The kind of bond that never ends.
Trust that blossoms in this friendly space,
That even years of time can never truly erase.
Some faces I had barely known,
A simple smile, a quiet tone.
......
Cuban Macaw
by Rumi Ullidov
a Cuban Macaw standing in the tree
all flattering and in good moods
gazing colours, burgundy, blue and green
oh! wandering animals in the woods
happy as ever in his solitude
......
In Fragrant Mists
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
In the hall of clocks and mirrors,
Winds of time bring fragrant whispers,
Of midnights of magic moonlight,
And reflections of past delights!
Of golden days when lost in blooms,
And dancing joy in summer rooms!
A blur of green in woodland scene,
And the purple twilights velveteen.
......
The Universe Looking Back
by Eleni Dounis
you never know what's going on
on Jupiter
everything you see
has happened forty minutes ago
a lifetime stretched
in between the miles that cover
what we call a distance
but know to be a tragedy
......
Soon, I’ll Sleep Again
by Carl Halling
Soon, I’ll sleep again,
I will feel no pain,
For a little time,
Peace will be all mine,
My mind will seek
Freedom from the past,
I’ll be carefree,
......
Goodbyes We Never Saw Coming
by Siddhi Beri
Seven weeks flew by too fast,
Though, I begged each moment to last.
They became much more than friends,
The kind of bond that never ends.
Trust that blossoms in this friendly space,
That even years of time can never truly erase.
Some faces I had barely known,
A simple smile, a quiet tone.
......
The Universe Looking Back
by Eleni Dounis
you never know what's going on
on Jupiter
everything you see
has happened forty minutes ago
a lifetime stretched
in between the miles that cover
what we call a distance
but know to be a tragedy
......
Where blood finds itsxway
by Mario Odekerken
Where blood finds its way,
I always return to Limburg.
To the gentle hills of my childhood,
to the land where my life began.
In the voices of its dialect,
in the scent of rain upon old roads,
something remains that time cannot erase,
no matter how far the years may carry me.
......
Wohin das Blut mich ruft
by Mario Odekerken
Wohin das Blut mich ruft,
finde ich immer wieder zurück nach Limburg.
Zu den sanften Hügeln meiner Kindheit,
zu dem Land,in dem mein Leben begann.
In den Stimmen des Dialekts,
in Duft des Regens auf alten Wegen,
lebt etwas weiter,das die Zeit nicht nimmt,
ganz gleich,wohin die Jahre mich tragen.
......
Waar het bloed niet kruipen kan
by Mario Odekerken
Waar het bloed niet kruipen kan,
vind ik steeds weer de weg naar Limburg.
Naar de glooiende heuvels van mijn jeugd,
naar het land dat mijn eerste thuis was.
In de stemmen van het dialect,
in de geur van regen op oude wegen,
leeft iets dat nooit verdwenen is,
hoe ver de jaren mij ook dragen.
......
