Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Filomena May 20
I wouldn't call myself a poet
But you make me dream like one
You're an angel, but you don't know it
But I know, 'cause you gleam like one

Some people may not seem to notice
But who cares what people say
The ones who really know you know this
And would never push you away

My Goddess gleaming
My tears are streaming
Please tell me that you understand
The fate that weaved us
Must never leave us
Please keep me here in Heaven's hand

Now life's a trail that keeps on going
As we walk it hand in hand
The winds of time are always blowing
On our footprints written in the sand

I know that fate's a current flowing
As we swim it side by side
Never stopping, never slowing
Till we're swallowed by the tide

My Goddess gleaming
My tears are streaming
Please tell me that you understand
The fate that weaved us
Must never leave us
Please keep me here in Heaven's hand

I guess I'd call myself a poet
My pencil proves this power true
But sitting here I'd never know it
'Cause none of my silly rhymes could ever compare to you
For E, My Love
Filomena May 20
ja kā o Kánóka? ja Kánóka o kā?
ja kei got ba fo nok za tu zon zak de ska?
i sai pen ni je ben ni je tet ni po zbu.
ju na lok ni no tok ni nãu qok ni de tsu.

ju no vol ni so dol ni qo don de so klu.
je qeu tet ni põ fet ni e sol ze e plu.
juja kā nia Kánóka ki vei ni sai blu?
i zon go deu sat qe deu lup qe deu dqu.

Where is Paradise? And Paradise is where?
Can you stand in the land where all colors are fair?
I wonder, I wander, I try to discover,
But I guess I am less than untouchable other.

But I don't like complaining all day without fail,
So I try to enjoy both the head and the tail.
So then, where is my Paradise that I find so fair?
With love, and with friendship and help. It is there.
Original poem in Xextan, translated into English.
Filomena May 4
I don't understand this.
You don't understand these.
The Cowboy is a city kid.
The City Kid is me.

I was nothing. Now I'm something.
Wish I wasn't. Woe is me.
Why should I be anything?
The pain will set me free.

Blows to the head!
Blows to the head!
Blows to the head!
Blows to the head!

They say it's always getting better,
but it's never good enough.
The window pane is getting wetter.
Dry it off and toughen up.

Blows to the head!
Blows to the head!
Blows to the head!
Blows to the head!

The sun was set, but now it's rising.
Raging fires have fallen low.
But wait till darkness comes reprising,
and blazing flames in flurries flow.

Blows to the head!
Filomena Jan 31
o tut de lun u zgiqbu
je dza sua *** kai zgilen tak te zon
i qdu qe xek nau tepzi tek o ***
je zuk bau *** nau zal po sli de ple
i sli bau *** xai daltep. i nefu lo sinpok
je plo qe txitup le za xak de zok.
i lan lo xilpok sondal xle de papkin gu
ke xel de lit pe sin je dzo le kai papkit
fi no vol fai dan pe xil. i nak lo lupko
pe qippli kai ben je sku le zgi fi zetfu
peu tu lot pe lia gelúp. i xek ne lutnik
sku de qak xik je xnukek le kai xta
i lutfu peu zanxo je pindal qe xne peu luttak
je sik le po zan do ple de notlen
vou nau zal do ple de pel. i lan lo vipnik
je xle le *** sai xel de txixo bon
i kul lia lot je bel lia xnu pe gul
i xel le sui kep ze skuxo bon qe sin
je slizuk le fi ti. i xen o liofu
e xalzen xle de nokfuk pap
i vit le so fo tul je xle le kin
je zni sai dal lia *** gexpá qe lal
za lia qla xal je lia takson dqi qe dal zoi
xen go zno e son pe sin je ***
go e pe zgitul kon. i nak to del
ke fin de skuxo xik qe xel de ske
i zno po sinpokfu je qdu do sua ke bon
i sak xto i sak lot i sak ska i sak zat
This is a Xextan translation of the "All the world's a stage" speech, from Shakespeare's "As You Like It"
Filomena Jan 22
Your words are spells,
bewitching me
by means
beyond my comprehension.

Your eyes are jewels
by which
you hypnotize my senses.

Your voice, your lips,
a rose's scent
that beckons me
toward its sweetness.

I hope you realize
your love
is what completes me.
Filomena Dec 2023
Está frio o tempo
E está forte o vento
Mas o rosto está contento
Que não falta aquecimento

Porque na figura
No caminho pela rua
As botinhas são felpudas
Refletindo as doçuras

E maldosamente olha
As pessoas na recolha
Mas ela nunca está nervosa
E sempre porta-se garbosa

E a sua processão
Nessa grande multidão
Não precisa de permissão
E é doce a sua canção

Porque o amor e o amizade
Para ela são bastantes
E não há necessidade
Atentar ao desplante

E está frio o tempo
E está forte o vento
Mas o rosto está contento
Que não falta aquecimento
My first attempt at writing in Brazilian Portuguese.
If you speak Portuguese
and have a suggestion,
please let me know.
Original English:
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/4594310/the-fuzzy-boots/
Filomena Dec 2023
i qik o lun
je flu o kon
ju na ni dun
põ gip e bon

i qat ni sek
so nau po kal
ju txexnexek
po wu no zal
Planets spin. And air flows. But now I know that good things are destroyed.
I remain safe only during warmth. But oh! How quickly absence comes.
Next page