"alphonse" poems
Stealing my breath on a summer night
Youthful in the dusk and wise on the stars
Driving out with pillows and blankets in the back of the truck
Now, her smile warms my freeze
Easily holding me as I regain feeling in the form of tears
You, you and I~
Loving through the strokes of the clock
Echoing the newest learned song between the walls
Arching, moaning, coming- close
Neighbors can easily hear you and T and A
Netflix binges and night holds
Edward Elric and Alphonse are on a scroll hanging on the wall
Ching chong and she still believes Asia speaks one language
Love-with a little bit of lust some could say
I waited so long for the 'i' so I could say 'I love you and you love me'
Fighting for yourself and being my tough one when I'm away
Freedom. Yep. #YOLO #sorrynotsorry #Free
Orchard is a part of Washington State as you taught me
Running can't quite be a thing, but derby is
Dedicating my life to you. Then, now, forever.
Jun 13, 2014
Jun 13, 2014 at 5:28 PM UTC
Certain roi qui régnait sur les rives du Tage,
Et que l'on surnomma le sage,
Non parce qu'il était prudent,
Mais parce qu'il était savant,
Alphonse, fut surtout un habile astronome.
Il connaissait le ciel bien mieux que son royaume,
Et quittait souvent son conseil
Pour la lune ou pour le soleil.
Un soir qu'il retournait à son observatoire,
Entouré de ses courtisans,
Mes amis, disait-il, enfin j'ai lieu de croire
Qu'avec mes nouveaux instruments
Je verrai cette nuit des hommes dans la lune.
Votre majesté les verra,
Répondait-on ; la chose est même trop commune,
Elle doit voir mieux que cela.
Pendant tous ces discours, un pauvre, dans la rue,
S'approche, en demandant humblement, chapeau bas,
Quelques maravédis : le roi ne l'entend pas,
Et, sans le regarder, son chemin continue.
Le pauvre suit le roi, toujours tendant la main,
Toujours renouvelant sa prière importune ;
Mais, les yeux vers le ciel, le roi, pour tout refrain,
Répétait : je verrai des hommes dans la lune.
Enfin le pauvre le saisit
Par son manteau royal, et gravement lui dit :
Ce n'est pas de là haut, c'est des lieux où nous sommes
Que Dieu vous a fait souverain.
Regardez à vos pieds ; là vous verrez des hommes,
Et des hommes manquant de pain.
742
stepping back to my cherished boyhood
It passed a quarter century to step out of my Alma Mater
My Santa Cruz High School…….
Still your revolving gate brings back
those cherished memories revolving back
there comes a ****** from the heart.
Stepping back into your court yard,
I feel the warmth of my mom’s arms…
The same warmth that escorted me
to step into your pavements on the first day.
Still I feel the breeze under the canopy of your rain-trees
hark! still we hear that cherished clang of bell
hit by Alphonse uncle in his unique rhythm…...
our beloved teacher’s voices are still flowing in the air
Now class rooms are empty and still,
But once they buzzed with our giggles and chats
They took us to the Daffodils of Words worth
To the frozen lakes of Robert Frost…
Through the lyrics of Tagore
And showed the renunciation of Gowtham Buddha
marveling arts and thrilling sciences
gave us wings to fly in colors
Friends who stayed in merits and demerits
stood together in good deeds and mischief
All those golden good old days
Of the teen spirits of arrogance
Enthusiasm and outraging curiosity
Joking peers and merrymaking leisure,
all those lessons earned us life
more than the scores those syllabus gave us.
Jan 5, 2017
Jan 5, 2017 at 1:33 AM UTC
I see what others can't see;
I hear what others can't hear;
I feel what others can't feel;
I've lived centuries that no one has lived,
Longed for days that no one has longed and,
Missed for eternities for those who I can't see.
I am me.
I am A.c. Alphonse.
I am the immortal.
Sep 13, 2013
Sep 13, 2013 at 8:36 PM UTC