This is the poem about the limitations of the memory-feature of human brains. Due to these limitations, we tend to forget things. This poem lays down the whole logical sequence in which our brains start forgetting things.
This comes as a word of caution to all the writers desperately trying to create a masterpiece. No matter how beautiful your creation is, it will go down to oblivion, as we all will.
Victories come with a price. Here the ship may have successfully sailed through all the perils towards the victory, but the Captain is no longer alive to taste it. The captain, here, in this poem, refers to the late president of USA, Abraham Lincoln. The poem is written with reference to American Civil War of 1861-65.
Soft Silence Falls onto Silence, by J. W. Cassandra. This is an other poem of the so-called “Armageddon Poems”, that is it belongs to my 18th volume, “Incompletion”, to cycle “Armageddon”. The cycle isn’t entirely finished yet, I share here only some of them both in English and Hungarian. This poem I placed here after some hesitation but, this poem shows that Armageddon we may interpret but transferred sense.
Soft Silence Falls onto Silence, by J. W. Cassandra. This is an other poem of the so-called “Armageddon Poems”, that is it belongs to my 18th volume, “Incompletion”, to cycle “Armageddon”. The cycle isn’t entirely finished yet, I share here only some of them both in English and Hungarian. This poem I placed here after some hesitation but, this poem shows that Armageddon we may interpret but transferred sense.
The Kali Yuga Does Its Work, by J. W. Cassandra. This is an other poem of the so-called “Armageddon Poems”, that is it belongs to my 18th volume, “Incompletion”, to cycle “Armageddon”. The cycle isn’t entirely finished yet, I share here only some of them both in English and Hungarian. This poem I placed here since I think that Armageddon concerns not only the Occident (West) but, the Orient (East) equally at the last time.
The Kali Yuga Does Its Work, by J. W. Cassandra. This is an other poem of the so-called “Armageddon Poems”, that is it belongs to my 18th volume, “Incompletion”, to cycle “Armageddon”. The cycle isn’t entirely finished yet, I share here only some of them both in English and Hungarian.
There’s No Place, by J. W. Cassandra. This is an other poem of the so-called “Armageddon Poems”, that is it belongs to my 18th volume, “Incompletion”, to cycle “Armageddon”. The cycle isn’t entirely finished yet, I share here only some of them both in English and Hungarian.
There’s No Place, by J. W. Cassandra. This is an other poem of the so-called “Armageddon Poems”, that is it belongs to my 18th volume, “Incompletion”, to cycle “Armageddon”. The cycle isn’t entirely finished yet, I share here only some of them both in English and Hungarian.
Grey Shadow, by J. W. Cassandra. This is a poem of the so-called “Armageddon Poems”, that is it belongs to my 18th volume, “Incompletion”, to cycle “Armageddon”. The cycle isn’t entirely finished yet, I share here only some of them both in English and Hungarian.
Grey Shadow, by J. W. Cassandra. This is a poem of the so-called “Armageddon Poems”, that is it belongs to my 18th volume, “Incompletion”, to cycle “Armageddon”. The cycle isn’t entirely finished yet, I share here only some of them both in English and Hungarian.
Its true that we all wear the masks for some reason. But, the poet here has a question that why are people always so interested in counting our feelings hidden behind the mask. Why can’t they just take us with our masks? There is a reason why we put this mask, why can’t everyone just let it be.
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.
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.
This poem is a perfect word of wisdom for all the people. This tells you the importance of today. The fact that you are able to breathe, it gives you the list of possibilities, the buffet of the courses of action from which you can wisely choose the best one.
