My Hearts sings with love

I close my eyes as I let the
Strings of bach,mozart play through
My fingers as I feel connected
With the violin, the piano,
It gives me the hope of a coming tune,
Its a the joy that my heart sings,
Every chord, that gets played,
Every composer has their own
Tune of rhythm,
Mine is combined by words
Scripted in delicate quotes
As I string them together
As the tempo of my heart
Goes either fast or slow,
Ludwig' is playing his beat
That it flows and create a major
Turning point to slower tempos
As he gathers his music throughout
The arena he is playing with,
how amazing is this composer
To have received this talent
To create his passion
So we can discover what music is
All about, its the heart
Its the soul of each poet.
that's what my heart sings
Of love and such dramatic
Love scenes that I push
It all through my pen
As the ink hits the white paper,
a deep and emotional tragically
drawn ending to fate, hope and love.

Poetry Picnic Week 29:"Muse, Art, Music and Poetry"

The Burning Flame

I've always looked at her as moral human being, never have I thought
this is who she was.
Blinded I've accepted every lie she has told me,
I could see her being envious towards other women in my life,
Always finding ways to get my mind to her, using sexual desires to make me lust after her body.
With greed I've entertained the thoughts that I wanted more of her,
Without  a question I could never understand what's the deal with her.
At times her raging anger would come to the surface as it would
always attack me without thinking
to put a stop to my own mind I attack her with the same words that utters from her mouth.
There are no guarantees that in life we would fall down and commit certain sins that could be the end to our spirit;
the flesh takes over as its pride needed to be pat on the back to make it feel good.
Yet it’s all in securities that we want to hide from the person we thought we knew.
It's written in proverbs that there are six things God hates,
That he detest most of all,
'Haughty eyes, a lying tongue, hands that shed innocent blood,  a heart that devises wicked schemes, 

feet that are quick to rush into evil, a false witness who pours out lies'.
If we knew what we've sinned can our lives be changed if we admit to
what we've done unto others?
To keep a clean heart don't be envious towards your fellow men,
don’t look with lusted eyes at another man's wife.
Don't be greedy to have more wealth than what you can't inquire.
Live with souls free of the seven sins
that can ruin your souls.

Poetry Picnic Week 26: Seven Deadly Sins

 

Your Art Matters

Your Art Matters

This morning I picked up the paper,

Usually I read the financial section,

But instead I took a brief moment

To see the who’s who in the cosmopolitan

Of the New York Times,

I must say I have found a lot of things,

Especially on what’s happening

In the world of literature and modern art,

Sculptures and new books being released,

I have spotted that the Jewish Art centre

Is shifting identity,

The Judah L Magnes Museum has

Reopened as the Magnes Collection

Of Jewish Art and life,

And is also now part of the library

At the University of California, Berkeley.

I am so delighted that art hasn’t died yet,

Those historic monuments can be carried

Through generation after generation.

We stand to know that Art does matter,

That whatever we do in this life,

That our creativity will never not

Be outnumbered that Art is timeless.

Poetry Picnic Week 23: New York Times Headline Topics

This is from Hyde Park @ Poets rally

My Hearts sings with love (3/1/2012)

My Hearts sings with love (3/1/2012)

I close my eyes as I let the

Strings of Bach, Mozart play through

My fingers as I feel connected

With the violin, the piano,

It gives me the hope of a coming tune,

It’s the joy that my heart sings,

Every chord, that gets played,

Every composer has their own

Tune of rhythm,

Mine is combined by words

Scripted in delicate quotes

As I string them together

As the tempo of my heart

Goes either fast or slow,

 Ludwig' is playing his beat

That it flows and create a major

Turning point to slower tempos

As he gathers his music throughout

The arena he is playing with,

 How amazing is this composer

To have received this talent

To create his passion

So we can discover what music is

All about, it’s the heart

It’s the soul of each poet.

That’s what my heart sings

Of love and such dramatic

Love scenes that I push

It all through my pen

As the ink hits the white paper,

 A deep and emotional tragically drawn

ending to fate hope and love.

Copyright C Davids 2012

Poetry Picnic Week 22: Spring, Colors, Trees, and New Lives

Freestyle

Freestyle

I’m a poet I glide through life

Using words as my weapon,

I come across different humans

Each and every day on my path

I look at them not with who are you,

But I see what most don't see,

I see pain, hearts being broken,

Families torn apart by abuse, alcohol

Just to name a few,

We walk around as broken people

Searching for someone to see us

To really see us what we all about,

Yet we keep our true selves

Hidden by wearing a mask.

I see a tear drop fall from a woman's eyes

As she's lost her home and husband,

I see her living on the streets with her teenage daughter,

I see other living under boxes

Sleeping on pavements,

I asked God inside my heart

Keep them safe at night,

I see little kids asking for money

As they buy alcohol or some drug

To kill the hunger or to keep the

Pain that lies underneath.

I’m a poet with words,

I'm just a lady, someone's daughter, someone's friend,

Someone's hope,

But I ask myself each day

What is broken inside of me?

Where does my hope come from?

I look up to the sky

And there is my answer.

I am not perfect,

What I see and what I endure

Each living day through my eyes

Is heartbreaking, heart nerve wrecking,

Seeing girls selling themselves

On the side of the streets to men.

I am not perfect I'm just a humble

Person going about her life.

 How many of us don't see the pain,

But all we do is walk the other way

And pull up noses,

The justice in this world

Are outrageous, Christian people?

Being ignorant because

The family next door to them

Has a gay son or daughter,

God teach is love

Yet Christians feels hate

In their hearts against

The innocent girl

Who’s confused about her sexuality?

I write this not to preach,

I'm not perfect,

But God loves me

Who's created me?

He designed me exactly how I came to be.

Yes I am a gay individual.

I've learned to love me as I am.

I won't let ignorance and hate

Destroy the love I've found for myself.

I’m a poet but I'm also human.

Poetry Picnic Week 16: My Life in Free Verse

A black and white day

A black and white day

I don’t know much that is going on,

But I have this feeling it always comes on a day like this,

A Friday where everything seem black and white

I ask myself what is this I feel

Why can’t you just feel what I feel?

Do you love me if you don’t let me go?

“I can’t let you. You too important to me”, she says.

“But if I am then why cant you love me.

Love me like I know you want to.” I said.

I stood there in front of her; I could see the tears falling down her face.

My own tears were falling making a smudge with my make up.

I don’t always where them,

But only for today I wanted to be beautiful for her.

I hear her say, “You beautiful.” I want to say thank you.

I want to say just hold me.

Just for once.

Don’t let us fall apart,

Don’t give up on me.

But I could say was nothing…

A long sigh came out of her.

“I will always love you no matter who is in my life,

I will love you still.” Then it dawned on me.

How could she really love me?

If she did.

Why am I not enough?

Why am I not worth being with her?

Is this what this day has become,

As a wind start to pick up blowing the tree I was leaning against now.

Its then I saw the cloud become grey,

 A very dark grey.

It won’t belong until rain will come.

I am sure it will, even though it’s a black and white Friday.

A day that could bring so much pain to my heart.

I know that I won’t be able to walk away from her,

That I will still go on loving her for years to come.

It was a year later I was standing at that same tree.

The same day a black and white Friday,

My emotions never changed, my heart never stopped

From loving her.

All I could hear was the wind blowing and in the distance I still

Believe that I can hear her say,” I still love you forever and always.”

Copyright C Davids 25/11/2011

Credit goes to : One Poet Notes :

Photo Friday: “Black (& White) Friday”

Poetry Picnic week #17 “Photos, Nostalgia, Memories, and Families”,

Finding Feather On Your Path

Finding Feather On Your Path

She wore the symbolic feather,

Most said it was a figment of her imagination.

Yet it stood written in the book

of philosophy that she would

Wear the symbolic feather.

but she is the messenger.

She was chosen before birth,

She wears her faith proudly,

And purity never unwavering,

She stands tall in her truth.

They call her one of the many fables

As she was destined to lead,

And bring forth peace to all,

So how can anyone say?

It's in her imagination

When we all know that the

Symbolic of all faith starts

With finding a feather on your path.

Theme: Poetry Picnic Week 12: Feathers, Fidelity, Figment, and Fables 

Here comes goodbye

Here comes goodbye

I just can't believe where life has taken me

My entire life is changed

Nothing is there anymore

You left for good this time,

You're someone else's now

I thought this might happen one day

Just one day to soon.

I've hurt you too much

Over the past year.

I think this is goodbye

Here I'll stay wished for you to be my wife.

I can hear your last words that

I don't see the woman I once loved,

All I see is someone desperate.

You won't believe how I'm feeling

Right now, I wish I were better person then.

A better girlfriend a better friend.

Here comes goodbye

And this time there's no forever for us

No little kids in our future,

No you and I

No bunny,

No sweet pea.

I've had you but lost you.

You were my first love.

But now it’s all gone and forgotten.

You were always the one.

I knew it since the start.

Now our love story has come to an end.

I'll always love you.

In your own words you've said it,

"Creo que eres hermosa. Y probablemente no debería decir esta última parte, pero me gustas tu"."

I think you're beautiful. And I probably shouldn't say this last part, but I like you."

Mi alma es tuya te la entrego

Soy completo para ti

My heart is yours, I give it to you

I am complete for you

Copyright C Davids @ 13/10/2011

Poetry Picnic Week 9 : Longing, Loss, Loosing and Failure

Fallen

Fallen

So those words just start drifting

Through my mind,

As fresh tears are willing to fall,

I try so hard to push them back,

Telling myself that I have no right,

That I haven't needed to break down

And cry, I can't accept this,

Tears falling, when all I'm thinking

Why not spoke up earlier.

What have I missed out?

Was I so consumed with my own hurt?

That I didn't watch what was going

On around me.

Do you blame me for everything I've been through?

 That we've been through.

Our hearts belong together

That's what I know.

I'm sitting up late this morning

While sad love songs are playing

Our songs, our future gone.

I didn't even feel this ache

I'm feeling now months ago,

But here it, I feel regret now.

I'm heart broken.

So this must have felt like

When I broke yours,

And heart wrenching, suffocating pain.

The kind of pain that leaves your head

Spinning, that leads you to do things

Unknown.

A dark red room with your knife

Right through the center of it.

The more I see you happy,

The more the knife twist and turns

That I can't feel anything anymore,

Numb and empty that's how I feel.

You've won the battle.

Walk out the door as you smile

And grab someone else's hand.

Leaving me barely can take a breath

As nothing is left but being fallen.

Copyright C Davids @ 13/10/2011

Poetry Picnic Week 9 : Longing, Loss, Loosing and Failure

Celebrating Life

Celebrating Life

“The more you praise and celebrate your life,

 the more there is in life to celebrate.”

It was a day of despair

As I walk through the paths that leads up to

The only woman that has ever loved me,

Just remembering the glow in her eyes

As she would wait for me open arms

As I would walk up to her and she closed

Me into the warmth of her heart.

Facing this stone right now,

As I slowly letting my finger

Fall into the words scribbled on the stone.

Sometimes I think about life

And I wonder what celebrations

Is yet too come,

The birth of a baby, the day she goes to school,

Turning around as you see her aging into

A beautiful young lady,

Her graduation from high school,

Her first day at college, graduation,

Planning her life as she enters adulthood,

Getting married, her first born,

Her children growing up as they

Start their lives.

Her first grandchild, life goes on never ending,

But if we just stop for one moment and think

Of all the good that has come into your life,

The love you’ve received from baby until

You have to say your goodbyes.

I’m standing right at the foot end of a gray stone,

Where the only woman I have looked up to,

Is laying to rest, ten years has gone by.

She is no longer with us in this life,

But she left behind so many great amazing

Traditions that we have to carry on.

Celebrating birthdays, Christmas, New Years, Easter

To name but a few, but the most important of them all,

Would be to celebrate life.

To live each day as it comes,

Never hinder on the one you’ve lost too long,

Because they want you to seek happiness,

To get on with life, each day thank god

For giving you the life you have.

I am going to start celebrating life.

Celebrating my life.

The mere sense of living is joy enough.

Poetry Picnic Week#4

”Summer Vacations, Grandparents,  and Anniversaries”

 

 

I Thought I am going too write about something that has two of the themes in, one grandparents and anniversaries, but also focusing on the celebration of life.

We sometimes take life for granted.

This poem is also dedicated to the 11/09/2001

Also happy anniversary to JP community

2010/2011

 

 

A Letter



Dear Love ……

   

Do you remember how people would say our love was timeless?

How nothing could ever come between us.

Love you were the essence of my very existence.

The air I breathe, that filled my lungs with that fresh smell of vanilla

You used to wear, the coconut smell of your hair,

As my fingers would string through it, the silky texture of your

Beautiful long sleek tresses.

Looking back to those months when our love blossomed

Other girls would be jealous because we had each other.

Our love stood timeless, through all the pain,

The heartache, not once have you said you didn’t love me.

You probably wondering why I am writing you this post card.

I don’t know if you will ever get it or whose eyes will fall on it.

We are so far apart, my words is all I have left.

To let you know that you are still in my heart.

In my heart is a whisper that you feel the same way too.

Don’t let that feeling fade away, as I am carrying it deep within me.

Just let the moments sweep us both away.

Love I am going to find you again somewhere as we sleeping underneath

The same big sky. As you look up just wish upon that star that is twinkling.

That is I, my eyes that is sparkling whenever I feel you near.

Till we meet again my sweet love

 

POETRY PICNIC WK 2 : The Kiss

Angel of Death

Angel of Death

She strikes only when the darkness needs to be prevailing.

She is the chosen one,

The blood of the lion flows through her veins.

His strength beats in her heart,

His spirit resides within her.

Deep within her subconscious

She’s crying out for salvation.

There is no salvation without suffering.

She’s not like the other angels,

She’s unique in her own way.

She has a specific purpose.

They say death draw nears

Your life flashes pass your eyes.

Your job is to take these memories

And store them within your sythe.

Even though you cant determine

The person’s death.

You job is to guide the soul to the next realm.

It’s like hearing the beating of her wings

As she sets her sights on her quest.

Do not be scared because she’s here

To bring the dying to there final destination.

© Chimnese Davids, All rights reserved.

Picnic Poetry Week #3, Free Verse Week!!

Living Through The Pages

I was about six years old when my mother took
Me into this big place filled with books,
As I was walking down the rows and rows
Of many books, I started to get that feel
Of the pages as I flip through them one by one.
Its rainy days I learn how to walk there
Alone on my eight year old birthday,
Mom saw me coming as my bag was filled
With lots of books with bright colours and pictures,
School projects came I was first to shoot up my finger
As I know I was about to discover the world
Of an encyclopaedia, I would see my schoolmates
Damage books, as they would tear the inner pages,
It crushed me how despicable and disrespectful they were.
As I got older those picture books became love tales,
Mystery, suspense, I learn more and more about
The reason why books are there
It’s educational and also entertaining,
As I would read tons of books per week,
Later my mind would want to follow
Wherever this writer is taking his characters,
I would slowly write down the author’s names
For future references,
Who ever knew that deep within my subconscious?
A budding writer was living,
Trying to put myself on that journey
As I dig for love and creativity
Distinguishing the two together I knew then
That books was going to be my life.
Living through the pages of my own journey.

13/06/2011

© Chimnese Davids, All rights reserved

Poetry Picnic Week #13 Childhood, Dreams, Books, and Role Models,

All The Way

When one’s heart is filled with materialism,
When one has only faith within its own strength,
To have the world within his hands,
To have ambition, fame and wealth.

Within him still something unclaimed,
But still remain a place so vacant,
Unfilled by its highest earthly claim.

Its then Jesus reached out his hand,
“Come seek my love”, Jesus said,
I left the world of all its materialism
Behind me,
To follow Jesus All The Way.

20/05/2011

 © Chimnese Davids, All rights reserved

Poetry Picnic ,Week #1  :Theme "Adam & Eve " ,