September 22, 2005

  • This is a repost from WhenWordsCollide from Sept. 10th, and includes the first poetry I have written for Elizabeth.


    BEHIND THE POETRY: These are brand new poems which describe a new turn my life has taken recently. These pieces are dedicated to a VERY SPECIAL person, who I want to thank for her kindness, love, and ebullient friendship. I have recently been touched by the Muse of Compassion in a way I have never been touched before, and I am wholly gracious for this new "page" in my "book of life". MFN 9/10/05



     


    'More Than Friends"
    Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
    © Friday, September 9th, 2005 9:17 a.m. pdt


    For You, with total love and graciousness



    Many times in life and memory I have fallen deep in love
    Many times have I wasted energy screaming with delight
    at rusted roses showing only thorns instead of blooms
    Many times have I cried, open mouthed, dysphonic,
    as I aim for a larger understanding of my inconsequence



    Many times I have loved, and lost
    Tears well up and overflow, raining depression
    o'er my sorry soul,
    solidifying sullen subterfuge with seeming complacency
    even as I die inside nightly and cry myself to sleep



    Many times have I felt
    to have gained wisdom and understanding
    but I was "wrong as usual" and
    had to carry on unawares



    Many times I bought fulfillment
    with confederate notes
    of nonsense,
    nullifying existence with my pleas for love
    And many times I failed to receive sustenance



    When I met you, charmed by your smiling eyes
    and your throaty laugh,
    your profound thoughts,
    and your dreams and visions of perfection
    I would read your words, and wonder 'bout your love
    your devotion, and your abiding needs and wants,
    and as time crept along unawares
    my love grew stronger
    even as my friendship
    for you flowered in fulsome bloom



    Months passed, and we conversed
    as if we had known each other in
    some past life, and our
    conversations were only now
    finishing from beginnings created millennia ago
    You listen with ears bent to heaven
    You speak in a voice deep and sweet with
    the blessings of the gods



    I never felt privileged to travel the hills and valleys
    of your perfection although the
    love in me grew stronger and more willing
    I never felt blessed enough to taste your nectar
    or to satisty my longing for your graciousness



    I never thought I would
    ever have a chance to envelop you
    with my being
    as I had always hoped, while filled with love
    in long lost times, to feel
    reciprocal care and hope abounding



    And so I deemed to feel enraptured by
    your pure and fellow friendship
    and while away my days wondering
    if we would e'er be more than friends



    Now, as I sit with keyboard at hand
    relishing the memoried thoughts of your
    womanhood, the smooth folds of your flesh
    and the tender but robust kiss of circumstance
    I am happiest to know
    that we are more than friends at last
    and know the future beams bright with promise.
    As I sigh with relish and with purpose
    unknown for periods long and lackluster
    but now filled to bursting with your countenance,
    I am satisfied at last
    And love has come to nest in my bower of beauty



    I am happiest to know, with fusion fast,
    that we are more than friends at last
     


    "Cloud Ten"
    Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
    © Saturday, September 10, 2005 6:25 a.m. pdt



    Cloud One took a long time to arrive
    Gleaned from gladdened good times to derive
    A set of degrees from which happiness spouts
    And humor with love should blight lonely time routs


    Cloud two, yes the next step through the sky
    Fluffy, fulfilling, don't ever ask why
    As greatness and times ne'er will happen again
    Bouncing, no burdens through pleasure and pain


    Cloud Three and Four, seemed attainable yes
    And throughout the years, each one had to bless
    The times with the fiery blazed passion of love
    While gazing at blue skies with clouds up above


    Cloud Five and Six, Seven, sweet, soft stepping stones
    As if in a dream, soothing sorry old bones
    The steps to fulfillment, then falling through air
    But the end result of experience always lived there


    Cloud Eight never really showed up in focus
    Learning to live without love's hocus pocus
    And settling for friends, conversations, and lust
    Just hoping and praying with passion and trust


    Cloud Nine was among the ecstatic places
    Filled not just with kind and adoring faces
    But with encompassing love in the final degree
    Embracing sweet passion just overwhelms me
    A skip through the universe, fleeting subllime
    And a better dream coming this time.


    And now without warning I'm right on Cloud Ten
    And sweet love surrounds me I don't know from when
    This latest exhuberance shatters bad dreams
    And Cloud Ten is just where I belong now it seems
    A skip through the universe, fleeting sublime
    And the better dream came true this time.


     


    "A Right Turn At Romance"
    Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
    © Saturday, September 10th, 2005 7:03 a.m. pdt


    My roadmap has always had torn pages
    and great chunks of areas
    pulled away from the seams
    I have always memorized the rough ridges
    and stony mud lined trenches of desire
    I have lived in these memories while the sun appears
    Laughing at nonsensical musings
    like so much red clay kicked by folly
    into the gutters of oblivion.


    I have driven blindly through pure despair
    flicking the lever controlling
    my windshield wipers of wistfulness
    as the rains of ruin wash over my totality
    Rushing headlong into the
    rancid rivers of regret
    screeching my tires
    but hearing no blowout just yet


    A long triptich of terrain hardly maneuvered
    while looking steadfast into the
    rear view mirror of life
    wanting those wants
    and hoping those hopes
    as the landscape becomes more
    familiar and yet more strange and foreign
    in front of me


    Malice and pain notwithstanding
    the trip has been one long and strange
    for sure
    Headlights burn out when
    blazing into sunlight
    Batteries die when
    the spark of love disappears


    Salient celibacy celebrates significance
    as the road washes out up ahead
    and the road signs fall over
    and the pages of the map mildew with age
    and disappear along with my tears


    And then, right when the road seems less travelled
    by purity and wisdom, with potholes and pitfalls
    occuring with increased regularity,
    I suddenly find a right turn at Romance,
    and finally home seems to appear
    slyphlike in the distance,
    and the churchbells of cheerfulness
    chime with gleeful abandon
    and I can throw out the roadmap forever