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"amalia" poems
This Letter Poem WM is dedicated to Mr. Williamsji Maveli, our Masterpoet. Why a dedication to him? These initials WM are his names. Accidentally also the initials of the first name of our Dutch Crown prince Willem-Alexander. The second initial is of his wife's first name: Máxima. I want to write also about our Royal Family, since our Queen of the Netherlands Beatrix will abdicate next 30 April 2013 and at the same time Willem-Alexander and his wife will be crowned as King and Queen of the Nederlanden. Now you know a bit about the Dutch Royal family. Today Her Majesty Queen Beatrix is still Queen of de Nederlanden till next 30 April 2013. These humble verse is for you, Williamsji. Please, enjoy! Thank you for your attention.  Sincerely, Sylvia Frances Chan. **************************************************************************************************** This letter W stands for WILLIAMSJI and the next letter, an M for MAVELI This W par accidence is also the first letter of our Crown prince WILLEM-ALEXANDER on next 30 April WILLEM and his époussée, his wife MAXIMA will be crowned King and Queen of Neerlandica Usually our country is called Nederland the foreigners call it mostly the Netherlands the tourists a many of them prefer to say Holland with your permission, this dedication, if I may can also be used as introduction, what do you say? WILLIAMSJI is the first name of our masterpoet he creates poems mostly about sensuality entwined in beauty, eroticism and love when you'll read his poetry you wouldn't see all those I've written about him above Instead you must use your rational ability in the lines throughout his verse you won't find, of course not, all that worse instead, you will enjoy all the beauty of his master's talent writing about sensuality His family name is also beautiful, MAVELI well known as the masterpoet Williamsji Maveli both are his true names belonging to Mr. Maveli this M reminds me of MáXIMA, Crown prince Willem-Alexander's wife in optima Now you know why I dedicate this poem to you your initials are quite the same as Willem and Máxima WM is Williamsji Maveli the famous poet WM is also Crown prince Willem-Alexander and his wife Princess Máxima Still one thing hasn't been told today the 27th April is Willem-Alexander's birthday he has become forty six years old a good father of three daughters, all their first names begin with an A princess Amalia, Alexia and Ariane their grandma is Her Majesty Queen Beatrix she will abdicate after three and thirty years of reign Dear Mr. Williamsji Maheli, our masterpoet your initials WM are exactly the same as our Crown prince Willem-Alexander and his beloved wife Máxima that's why I present this humble dedication to you today as a small Dutch presentation © Sylvia Frances Chan 27th April 1967-2013 Crown prince Willem-Alexander's 46th Birthday
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Apr 27, 2013
Apr 27, 2013 at 6:39 PM UTC
WM, a Dedication
This Letter Poem WM is dedicated to Mr. Williamsji Maveli, our Masterpoet. Why a dedication to him? These initials WM are his names. Accidentally also the initials of the first name of our Dutch Crown prince Willem-Alexander. The second initial is of his wife's first name: Máxima. I want to write also about our Royal Family, since our Queen of the Netherlands Beatrix will abdicate next 30 April 2013 and at the same time Willem-Alexander and his wife will be crowned as King and Queen of the Nederlanden. Now you know a bit about the Dutch Royal family. Today Her Majesty Queen Beatrix is still Queen of de Nederlanden till next 30 April 2013. These humble verse is for you, Williamsji. Please, enjoy! Thank you for your attention.  Sincerely, Sylvia Frances Chan. **************************************************************************************************** This letter W stands for WILLIAMSJI and the next letter, an M for MAVELI This W par accidence is also the first letter of our Crown prince WILLEM-ALEXANDER on next 30 April WILLEM and his époussée, his wife MAXIMA will be crowned King and Queen of Neerlandica Usually our country is called Nederland the foreigners call it mostly the Netherlands the tourists a many of them prefer to say Holland with your permission, this dedication, if I may can also be used as introduction, what do you say? WILLIAMSJI is the first name of our masterpoet he creates poems mostly about sensuality entwined in beauty, eroticism and love when you'll read his poetry you wouldn't see all those I've written about him above Instead you must use your rational ability in the lines throughout his verse you won't find, of course not, all that worse instead, you will enjoy all the beauty of his master's talent writing about sensuality His family name is also beautiful, MAVELI well known as the masterpoet Williamsji Maveli both are his true names belonging to Mr. Maveli this M reminds me of MáXIMA, Crown prince Willem-Alexander's wife in optima Now you know why I dedicate this poem to you your initials are quite the same as Willem and Máxima WM is Williamsji Maveli the famous poet WM is also Crown prince Willem-Alexander and his wife Princess Máxima Still one thing hasn't been told today the 27th April is Willem-Alexander's birthday he has become forty six years old a good father of three daughters, all their first names begin with an A princess Amalia, Alexia and Ariane their grandma is Her Majesty Queen Beatrix she will abdicate after three and thirty years of reign Dear Mr. Williamsji Maheli, our masterpoet your initials WM are exactly the same as our Crown prince Willem-Alexander and his beloved wife Máxima that's why I present this humble dedication to you today as a small Dutch presentation © Sylvia Frances Chan 27th April 1967-2013 Crown prince Willem-Alexander's 46th Birthday
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60
You left I'm letting go I'm letting go of you I'm letting go of hope And that's okay —Nicole Dawn I lost I'm giving you up I'm giving you up again I'm giving you up for her And I'll try to be okay —Amalia Puspa
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Jul 27, 2015
Jul 27, 2015 at 10:40 PM UTC
Left and Lost (Collaboration Poetry)
I know it isn't ordinary Aware it's not necessary Not a typical routine And something you may have never seen. But today is my birthday Something I do dare to share Because I remember it well I am not sure where I was born Was it in Texas ? Was it Vermont? Was I raised in Brooklyn County? Or maybe another country But for sure I remember it well The street where I lived was amused Or was it the street of Hermon? *** I am a little confused Where I lived after I was born But I remember it well. I exchanged messages with *** the newsy, Amalia and Dalia, Gallia and Talia And Peter and Teddy, and Geter and Freddy I met friends all over. A poet, a lawyer, nice pictures, and posters Young friends, sweet babies and also proud mothers I remember it well So Happy Birthday to me,
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Aug 16, 2014
Aug 16, 2014 at 12:14 PM UTC
I Remember My Birthday Well
Winter in Lisbon Up rua Garret I walked and it is steep in baixa, the old heart of this grand city, past shops that sell lottery ticket, besides a shop that sells religious artefacts, and a shop that sells Cartier watches. If you win there is money enough to decorate your mother's grave and to buy a posh watch. At the top of the street of the street a café Brasilia, it used to be Fernando Pessoa's drinking den, now it is upmarket, suit and short hair place who drinks tea and eat pastry; their forefathers used to look down their noses at Fernando, now they are proud of him. Irreverent poets can go somewhere else to drink. The master poet is a statue outside his café in the rain, and tourists take picture of him, one wonders what he thinks of it all. There is also a statue of Antonio Ribero Chiado, a poet who lived in the sixteen hundred, the largo is called after him, he was bald and dressed like a monk. I could see the river Tagus where tug-boats ply their in grey waters, and remembered when I used to be a ****** The church across the street “Incarnacao”, where Antonio used to pray is beautifully restored, but his God had left by the back door the front door was too heavy but saw a woman weeping in front of a statue of Christos, ***** for the masses? Why not? It is getting dark the Portuguese suits are swallowed by the metro, and men with cardboard boxes look for a doorway to sleep in. Over this scene hovers Amalia Rodrigues the great Fado singer, born in poverty, she hums a song for the wretched.
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Aug 2, 2017
Aug 2, 2017 at 9:52 AM UTC
winter in Lisbon
Winter in Lisbon Up rua Garret I walked and it is steep in baixa, the old heart of this grand city, past shops that sell lottery ticket, besides a shop that sells religious artefacts, and a shop that sells Cartier watches. If you win there is money enough to decorate your mother's grave and to buy a posh watch. At the top of the street of the street a café Brasilia, it used to be Fernando Pessoa's drinking den, now it is upmarket, suit and short hair place who drinks tea and eat pastry; their forefathers used to look down their noses at Fernando, now they are proud of him. Irreverent poets can go somewhere else to drink. The master poet is a statue outside his café in the rain, and tourists take picture of him, one wonders what he thinks of it all. There is also a statue of Antonio Ribero Chiado, a poet who lived in the sixteen hundred, the largo is called after him, he was bald and dressed like a monk. I could see the river Tagus where tug-boats ply their in grey waters, and remembered when I used to be a ****** The church across the street “Incarnacao”, where Antonio used to pray is beautifully restored, but his God had left by the back door the front door was too heavy but saw a woman weeping in front of a statue of Christos, ***** for the masses? Why not? It is getting dark the Portuguese suits are swallowed by the metro, and men with cardboard boxes look for a doorway to sleep in. Over this scene hovers Amalia Rodrigues the great Fado singer, born in poverty, she hums a song for the wretched.
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26
V'aggia spià na cosa Donn'Amà: vurria sapè pecché quanno ve veco, la capa mia nun pò cchiù raggiunà. Si me parlate, 'mpietto 'a voce vosta, m'arriva comme n'arpa, nu viulino; quanno rerite sento 'e manduline: na sinfunia 'e Betove e di Sciopè. Che v'aggio ditto... niente Donn'Amà! Quanno cu st'uocchie vuoste me guardate, me sento tutto 'o sango e friccecà. 'O core fa na sosta, nun cammina; me dice chiano chiano sottovoce: - Dincello a Donn'Amalia... è bella, è ddoce!... i' tengo 'o desiderio 'e ma spusà. -
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638
Donna Amalia
Sweetie, hey, Look at your reflection in the mirror Not your pool of tears See? you're young and beautiful Not to mention that gorgeous smile Yes, I know it hurts When he chose to forget you As you promised to remember him But, Darling, you knew You always knew He never gives you his heart Now, stop being so hard on yourself Realize that it's neither your fault Cause heart loves whom it chooses Yes, you both didn't work out Or at least that's what he said But it doesn't mean love wasn't there In that blink of a time Love was there I understand that you want him, only him But you also need to use your mind If he crossed your road Someone else will do too Eventhough this new guy will have his smile Or his crooked teeth and sinking cheeks But he will be able to fall as hard as you will Baby, forgive yourself Make peace with fate Recall the fact that he refused to be the sun For your white roses Therefore you should make your own light And decorate your garden with grace I promise the right guy is waiting He might be stuck on some tree right now But he's around It's a long tunnel indeed But it all will be worth every dime XO, Amalia
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Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 10:44 PM UTC
A Letter for You