Garland of My Songs, by J. W. Cassandra. I wrote this poem yet in February. I placed it to my volume “Incompletion”, cycle “I for You Return”. The subject “I” is not me, it is the lyrical “I”. I share the poem both in English and Hungarian and hope, you’ll enjoy it. Illustration for it I took from Pixabay.
Everyone needs a mirror in their life. Showing the perfectly flawed, madly genius self. It could be anyone, a friend, your mother, a pen pal, or yourself. Who is the mirror in your life?
This is an alphabet poem which is about the time when all these lockdowns, pandemic, cases will finally get over. The first letter of each word in the poem is in alphabetical order from A-Z.
Exams… fearful, stressful studying, remembering, writing will definitely score well. Boards! Papers… difficult or easy learning, answering, memorizing will make myself proud. Scores! Results… excite, eager waiting, dreaming, checking will feel extremely happy….
On the twenty-fifth of November, I died.
As I walk among the ruins of an empire, Bathed in bad omens and bitter prophecies, Its people ignore the tolling of Death’s bell.
Concrete is a poem that is as much a piece of visual art made with words as it is a work of poetry.
This poem is a sort of introduction by each element of a landscape presented visually.
Its elusive and precious doesn’t come with price tags it’s always with you lingering in places you have to see with your open eyes Accumulated tons of wealth still missing from your vaults you desperately…
Dear Diary, Monday cancelled again……
Time Goes By; by J. W. Cassandra. I wrote this poem yet in 2006. I didn’t place it in any of my volumes and won’t do so either. It represents an altering line, not that of the volumes 1-18. The translation differs from the Hungarian version a bit. I hope, you’ll enjoy it.
Time Goes By; by J. W. Cassandra. I wrote this poem yet in 2006. I didn’t place it in any of my volumes and won’t do so either. It represents an altering line, not that of the volumes 1-18. The translation differs from the Hungarian version a bit. I hope, you’ll enjoy it.
This is a poem of two five-line cinquain stanzas. It talks about the irony that each man thinks that all the other men are ill-willed.
Morn of Mourn, by J. W. Cassandra. I wrote this poem yesterday, after coming to know the news, for the victims and their families of the glacier burst in Uttarakhand, India. 🙏🏻 I share it in English and in Hungarian.
Morn of Mourn, by J. W. Cassandra. I wrote this poem yesterday, after coming to know the news, for the victims and their families of the glacier burst in Uttarakhand, India. 🙏🏻 I share it in English and in Hungarian.
Heavenly Rhythm, by J. W. Cassandra: this is a poem from an entire cycle titled “Carols of Snowflake”, from my volume 2, “Sun-book”. I wrote it in 2011 yet, and translated today in the morning. I share it both in English and Hungarian now because of its actuality. The illustration I chose from Pixabay. Maybe, I’ll share more poems of the cycle mentioned above.
