As the Dreamy Buddha, by J. W. Cassandra. This poem has a peculiar, unique story. It belongs to my volume 1, “Eternity, Awaken to Consciousness “, cycle “Altar for New Worlds”. And its story: originally I wrote it in my 19-year-old-age, as I then could see the Buddha. I mean the historical Buddha, Shakyamuni since, at that time in our country there had been available about Buddhism, Buddha, etc., only strongly imperfect information. Who at that time here at us knew who is Buddha, they were the “scholars”… So, at the university I wrote a bit longer version of the poem, and I shortened it in the Summer of 2007, when we found it in a copy book in the attic… Then I put it into my volume. Anyway, I had more poems just they had been lost from that period. Since then, I wrote more poems about Buddha, like Compassionate, Amitabha, etc. But this was my first attempt to depict, how I saw him then… My perspective widened and altered in the meantime. 🙂
As the Dreamy Buddha, by J. W. Cassandra. This poem has a peculiar, unique story. It belongs to my volume 1, “Eternity, Awaken to Consciousness “, cycle “Altar for New Worlds”. And its story: originally I wrote it in my 19-year-old-age, as I then could see the Buddha. I mean the historical Buddha, Shakyamuni since, at that time in our country there had been available about Buddhism, Buddha, etc., only strongly imperfect information. Who at that time here at us knew who is Buddha, they were the “scholars”… So, at the university I wrote a bit longer version of the poem, and I shortened it in the Summer of 2007, when we found it in a copy book in the attic… Then I put it into my volume. Anyway, I had more poems just they had been lost from that period. Since then, I wrote more poems about Buddha, like Compassionate, Amitabha, etc. But this was my first attempt to depict, how I saw him then… My perspective widened and altered in the meantime. 🙂
I See You Ever by My Heart, by J. W. Cassandra. This poem belongs to my volume 17th, “This Is You!”, cycle “Gentle Spring Breathe”. So far, this poem is the latest one from this cycle. It speaks rather of spiritual then mundane love… I share it in English and Hungarian. The cycle is unfinished yet, I’ll work on it.
I See You Ever by My Heart, by J. W. Cassandra. This poem belongs to my volume 17th, “This Is You!”, cycle “Gentle Spring Breathe”. So far, this poem is the latest one from this cycle. It speaks rather of spiritual then mundane love… I share it in English and Hungarian. The cycle is unfinished yet, I’ll work on it.
I Beg Your pardon!, by J. W. Cassandra. This poem belongs to my volume 17th, “This Is You!”, cycle “Gentle Spring Breathe”. I brought it forth by blood of my heart, by authentic inward misery. I share it in English and Hungarian. The cycle is unfinished yet, I’ll work on it.
I Beg Your pardon!, by J. W. Cassandra. This poem belongs to my volume 17th, “This Is You!”, cycle “Gentle Spring Breathe”. I brought it forth by blood of my heart, by authentic inward misery. I share it in English and Hungarian. The cycle is unfinished yet, I’ll work on it.
It’s about going on in life irrespective of the obstacle.
Stay with Me!, by J. W. Cassandra. This poem belongs to my volume 17th, “This Is You!”, cycle “Gentle Spring Breathe”. I share it in English and Hungarian. The cycle is unfinished yet, I’ll work on it.
Stay with Me!, by J. W. Cassandra. This poem belongs to my volume 17th, “This Is You!”, cycle “Gentle Spring Breathe”. I share it in English and Hungarian. The cycle is unfinished yet, I’ll work on it.
Poppy, Dancing Flame Dance, by J. W. Cassandra. This poem I wrote in May yet, but couldn’t share here since I lost all my writings from the computer in a minute and now I’m working on re-typing and re-copying all of them. It will take a long time, unfortunately. But in the meantime, I found some of them and share them here in a short time. This poem isn’t taken into any of my volumes yet. I give it through both in English and Hungarian.
Poppy, Dancing Flame Dance, by J. W. Cassandra. This poem I wrote in May yet, but couldn’t share here since I lost all my writings from the computer in a minute and now I’m working on re-typing and re-copying all of them. It will take a long time, unfortunately. But in the meantime, I found some of them and share them here in a short time. This poem isn’t taken into any of my volumes yet. I give it through both in English and Hungarian.
The only true spoil of war is that the victorious can bury their dead, Apocalypse by capitalism, what a century to be
I am a lone standing tree, who still wants to be free. My roots are so deep , as are the coral reefs. leaves are now history for me, Liberty is still a mystery for…
New Hampshire is a poem that describes Robert Frost’s love for the city of New Hampshire and its natural beauty, love for arts, and unbusinesslike nature. It also discusses the shallowness of people who measure everything based on its commercial value.
The brightest stars are visible in the darkest sky.
