Soma – sema, by J. W. Cassandra. My poem belongs to my volume “Source-Light”, the volume 16, cycle “Imprisoned into the Infinite”. “Soma sema” by Plato, means “The body is prison” (Ancient Greek). I intentionally chose this synonym ‘dungeon’ for prison, I feel the previous word more powerful here.
Soma – sema, by J. W. Cassandra. My poem belongs to my volume “Source-Light”, the volume 16, cycle “Imprisoned into the Infinite”. “Soma sema” by Plato, means “The body is prison” (Ancient Greek). I intentionally chose this synonym ‘dungeon’ for prison, I feel the previous word more powerful here.
If only I had known you were going to come in my life, I would have welcomed my demons of the past …
The tired and weary horse came to a halt, Lonely, scared, confused, I stood, Under the dreamy sky, Stars twinkling like diamonds, Sparkling moonlight through a cranny in the shroud of mist, Dew drops glistening…
I walk with a blindfold on my eyes, Earphone in my ears, To silence the judgement of the society, I bought things i didn’t need to impress people I don’t like, I took the high…
Emily Dickinson, through this poem, tries to find an answer to the question, “Why do I love?”. And this “You” and “sir” could be a reference to God as well.
Throughout the poem, she keeps asserting that there is no reason for her love for him. It comes naturally to her and is a very part of her existence.
If the poet had the beautifully decorated cloths of heaven made with golden, silver and dark light he would spread them under his beloved’s path. But he is poor and can’t give her beautiful clothes. He can give her only his dreams. Therefore he has spread his dreams on her way. And he requests her to walk softly because his dreams may be broken easily. The poet wishes he had the cloths of heaven.
Who Knows?, by J. W. Cassandra. The poem I wrote 2 days ago and haven’t put into any of my volumes yet. Hungarian version I wrote only yesterday. Please, take it on any language as a motivation… I hope, I can give through the essence.
Who Knows?, by J. W. Cassandra. The poem I wrote 2 days ago and haven’t put into any of my volumes yet. Hungarian version I wrote only yesterday. Please, take it on any language as a motivation… I hope, I can give through the essence.
The graceful ocean It’s waves of satin Shimmer to the light Woven by the sovereign. Its fabric in turmoil Racing to kiss Skin of white sand Then returns to such bliss. Its shades…
The graceful ocean It’s waves of satin Shimmer to the light Woven by the sovereign. Its fabric in turmoil Racing to kiss Skin of white sand Then returns to such bliss. Its shades…
The graceful ocean It’s waves of satin Shimmer to the light Woven by the sovereign. Its fabric in turmoil Racing to kiss Skin of white sand Then returns to such bliss. Its shades…