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“I wish you well”
said the wishing well
to the old man with the coin
“Don’t wish for me
I’m old you see,
just a wistful wish for my boy.
My life is done
his, just begun
a wish for life and health.”

And with what’s left of his money
he flung his last penny
giving all for a son’s
wisdom and wealth
Ah, this spring-
Your sweet scent touches
my little heart
and I wanna hear more
sounds of your feet.
Your shyness
and silent love
make my soul fly.

I dance,
and smile inside me
with your humming song.
Why do you look at me
with your smiling face?
After seeing your lovely eyes
I also draw a dream
on my mind.

Do you chuckle like this?
Or do you love me, miss?
Could you tell me, please!
The shine of your beauty
will make me mad at you;
So, will you talk to me?
Will you walk with me-
rest of your life?
BE
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I read some
I'm out of my league here
I vent with words so some can hear
Possible what I write
Is highschool writes
Compared to my reads here
Still I will Penn as clear
As I can
I will read and learn it
I will understand your work
This basic poet
The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.
A little escape from the madness.
Or maybe, into.
i have no eyes to see nor ears to hear,
no speech beyond my teeth or any breath,
i'm dumb for lack of thought in front or rear,
and paralyzed to stillness in my death,

so by enchantment i am moved to ask,
do ever you adorn my stone with wreath?
or is even a wreath a burdened task--
a limestone needing pulleys to bequeath?

and if no wreath, are you yet moved to haunt
this resting place to whisper to my mound?
or does this too remain a task that daunts
you to refrain from passing by around?

i often wonder if my plot still yields
a headstone or the mark of potters field

(C)2012, Christos Rigakos
English (Shakespearean) Sonnet
A triolet's first line echoes throughout
Its second line is also heard again
As if (within a cave) it was a shout
A triolet's first line echoes throughout.
These are the simple rules you must not flout
Only two rhymes, repeated by refrain:
A triolet's first line echoes throughout,
Its second line is also heard again.
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