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He’s no musician.
He doesn't make melodies through violin and guitar strings.
Yet he composed, haunting ballads in dramatic tempos,
Rhyming every lyric,
Harmonizing, making it dance in a musical euphony.

He’s no seamster.
Yet he cuts and he traces,
plain words and printed phrases;
Then he sews and he weaves it skilfully,
into a lovely concrete poetry.

He’s no painter.
He just has a palette of pigmented letters,
splashing colorful lines on his blank canvass.
A blast of contained evocative memories,
Streaking and shading mixtures of kaleidoscopic imagery.

He’s no storyteller.
Yet from him, I heard the most romantic tales-
One, of the moon and its lover sea.
Reciprocating shy glances, whispering I love you’s,
while kissing behind the sprawling mountains.
Though the dawn will come, they do not fear.
For after the majestic tribal sun leaves his stage,
There’ll the lovers be once again reunited.

He's no poet.**
Yet he writes--
stanzas and verses.
And oh! it revives,
every strand of emotion,
every sense of intuition,
Inside me.
A lyrical perception,
Sheer perfection,
Arousing perpetual reactions,
From me.
I am not good at this. I just want to express my pure gratitude, appreciation and awe for you.

"I am no poet. Never thought of myself as one. Just a guy dabbling clumsily in words"
Yet even, everything you do amaze me.


Thank you all wonderful people on Hello Poetry. I just realized this moment that this poem was featured as Daily poem yesterday.  I have never imagined any of my work will be posted as daily. Thank you all for the hearts, re-post,share, comments and messages. You really made my heart and soul so happy. :)
And most of all, thanks to the man who inspire me to write this one. :)
(04.14.2015)
 Mar 2015 Emilia Rose
jai
The One
 Mar 2015 Emilia Rose
jai
The one with brown eyes
The one that made me cry plenty of times
The one whose sass would never lose
The one I never want to forget
The one I finally had
The one I don't anymore
The one who is beautiful
The one who was my first real love
The one who loved me when I didn't love myself
The one who brought out the best in me
The one who accepted me for what I was
The one who I never want to lose as a friend
The one who understands what I mean
The one who shares the same dreams
The one who loved to read
The one whose lyrics match with mine
The one who I'm writing this for
The one who I'm crying for right now
The one who I will never forget
As much as I want to dislike you,
I can't say I don't miss talking to you.

As much as I want to resent you,
I can't say I don't miss thinking I had a chance with you.

As much as I want to loathe seeing your face,
Your smile and your eyes are just too beautiful.

As much as I want to reject you when you say hi,
Every word just sounds so sweet.

As much as I want to wish you death,
I can't help thinking I'd die with you.

As much I want to hate you,
Like I've never hated anyone before,
As much as I want to hate someone for the very first time,
I can't help but admit that I really fell in love with you.
 Mar 2015 Emilia Rose
SG Holter
This to celebrate those who
Swallow pride and shed own
Honour in the name of
World Peace.

Enemy hands shaking each other.
This to celebrate each helping
Stranger preventing robbery or
**** in a dark alley.

Care is the strongest defence.
This to celebrate the people who
Know the value of smiles and a
Friendly touch.

Flames that warm an entire room.
The ones who calm us down. This
To celebrate the old souls of the world,
The ones who say

You before me. Those whose
Turn is an always voluntary last.
The uninsultables.
The unstubborn ones.

The ones who shield the weakest,
Who place themselves on top of
Grenades or dive between bullets
And innocent hearts.

This to celebrate their brush strokes of
True colour on the bleak canvas
Of these dark and selfish
Times.

You are my gods.
I lay my whole person before you.
I bow unto you, prophets of the
Potential Paradise of Planet Earth.
 Mar 2015 Emilia Rose
Mari
11:11pm
 Mar 2015 Emilia Rose
Mari
I wish for love
real love
ya know the kind of love
you find in books
. . . I wish . . .
3-7-15
Second time I've ever made a wish at 11:11. I'll never forget the first time.
 Mar 2015 Emilia Rose
Mari
There are some
things a shower just can't fix.
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