Wael Isa

Weekly Poems: A Father’s Day Poem and More

FORGET THE FEAR OF LOVING ILLForget the fear of loving ill,And give yourself away.The more you love, the more you willHave reason to obey.Each has will to happiness,Retaining rights to be,’Mid a world of more or less,Satisfied and free.Deeper still lies what one wouldAlign with some eternal good,Yielding unity.THE COACHES I HAVE HAD HERE HAVE BEEN GIANTSThe coaches I have had here have been giants,Heads above the rest in mind and heart.After all, their young and restless clientsNeed still to find the grace to be a part.Know that all we students share your dream,Yet not always, yet, your wise persistence:Offering the gift to be a team,Undoing by success our staunch resistance.I AM OF THE DESERT, YOU OF CULTIVATIONI am of the desert, you of cultivation:Simplicity to me, to you is desolation;Heat, thirst, and agony I seek out on vacation,While you look for elegance and quiet restoration.I am of the ocean, you are of the shore:You want fewer waves, I manufacture more;You like tranquil bays, I love the rollers’ roar;In me, a wild emptiness; in you, a quiet core.While I am like a stream, you are like a lake:I babble over boulders, you reflections make;I rush forward heedlessly, as bones and branches break;You part before the piercing bow and then absorb the wake.That such extremes should not be mingled might seem elementary;But love can make the wildest contradictions complementary.I SOMETIMES THINK THAT I COULD BE ALONEI sometimes think that I could be alone:Really alone, with neither God nor friends.The people near me then might well be stone:Just faces on a frieze that never ends.And I would travel in my mind towards death,A world within a world sealed like a tomb.My thoughts would be as silent as my breath,And, like my breath, expire at my doom.Such thoughts would make me shudder, were not youA world where I may enter and find rest.A rock gives way within, and I walk throughTo be in laughing eyes a welcome guest.Thank God I have you, friend, that I might stayAnd be as I could be no other way.TO THE FATHER OF MY CHILDRENTo the father of my children:Open up your willing heart!Take what music I can give you,Hearing, too, my silent song.Even as, arrayed in passion,Finding love, I play my part,A wonder like a wind whips through me,Truth unknown for which I long.How beautiful, this unspent yearning,Ever for the darkness burning,Rising like a summer storm.HOLD MY HAND AND I’M YOURSHold my hand and I’m yours,And your heart will stay close to mine,For I know the sun must rise with the dawn,And at night the stars must shine.And the wind must wander the oceanAnd sing with the waves of the sea;Just so, I know, I’ll be by your side,And you will be wedded to me.And you will be wedded to me, my love,And I will be wedded to you;For I know the tide must turn with the moon,And the spring must return ever new.And the sky must weep that the hillsidesMay laugh in the green of their joy;And the leaves must turn red, brown, and goldThat the earth might their riches employ.And love like a mad, swollen hunger,And love like an unending song,And love like the silent pull of the EarthShall be with us all our lives long, my love,Shall be with us all our lives long.I WANT TO SAY I LOVE YOU ON YOUR BIRTHDAYI want to say I love you on your birthday,Though love is something you don’t want from me.Things didn’t go so well when I last said it,And so I’ll keep it silent in my heart.But how the words reverberate within me!A song that I must struggle not to sing,A music I must dance to without motion,A poem that I must never read aloud.Your wishes are a wall I would not scale,Yet won’t abandon, loathe to leave behind.I cannot have, and cannot bear to lose you,And so I send you this in my despair.

Weekly Poems: A Number Poem and More

SEVENTY-NINESeventy-nine has just one working kidney.Even that one doesn’t work so well.Vast domains of knowledge, passion, pleasure,Eagerly await his ample leisure,Nor have they aged, as far as he can tell.The problem is he’s in such pain he simplyYearns for moments peaceful, clear, and still.Needs are hopeless mountainsides, nor is heInterested in digging deep for treasure.Now it is enough each day to fill,Enduring grace too bountiful to measure.I HAD A ROUGH TIME WITH THREE KIDS BY MYSELFI had a rough time with three kids by myself,And I know that I didn’t do well.Counseling, fights, children’s services, courts:What I put you through must have been hell.But I loved you – all of you – all of that time,When my heart seemed to break every day,When crushed, and crushed, and crushed against stones,I would that the wind were my way.And I tried – how I tried – to be what you neededAnd show you the love in my heart.But often the fantasy crashed and exploded,And all that I was came apart.And now you are grown, I don’t ask forgiveness,Just some understanding will do,Of the person, however imperfect, whose lifeAnd whose love was devoted to you.THERE ARE NO BARS TO OUR EMBRACEThere are no bars to our embrace,No presence more than in the heart.We live our lives with love and grace,Together still, though still apart.No presence more than in the heart,No touch more salient than a dream.Together still, though still apart,We are more lucky than we seem.No touch more salient than a dream,Though dreams alone must sometimes be.We are more lucky than we seemIf I trust you, and you trust me.Though dreams alone must sometimes be,We live our lives with love and grace.If I trust you, and you trust me,There are no bars to our embrace.IN EIGHTH GRADE MY BEST FRIEND PASSED AWAYIn eighth grade my best friend passed away.He isn’t gone, of course. I have him hereWith me, within my heart, as I do always.How beautiful that people are so dearTo one another! For all my life I’ll love him.Only one small part of us dies. The restLives on in others. We are music withinMusic. Nor do we ever hear the bestOf us, which sings in other hearts, a chorusOf angels! However much I miss him, he singsHere now, my friend, in me, to you, for us,Still breathing in the beauty that he brings.Love lives forever passed along, and weAll are blessed to live, to love, to be.WHAT A PUZZLE NICK’S POEMS AREWhat a puzzle Nick’s poems are!I cannot grasp what he is after.Marx is easier by far!Why write, if one is out to barAll comprehension? Does he hafta?Marx is easier by far.If only some new thought would jarBourgeois perception, as in Kafka!But Nick’s poems empty puzzles are.I think I would put him on parWith Cage or Pollack: Which is dafter?Marx is easier by far.Under what sectarian starWas he begat? What gnomic laughterTwists those poems which puzzles are?Ah me! I’ll never know. A for-Eign joke, a filial disaster!God! Such puzzles Nick’s poems are!Marx is easier–by far!MARRIAGE IS A TURN TOWARDS INNOCENCEMarriage is a turn towards innocenceAs two vow what can only be naïve.Romantic love, of course, comes more than once,Returning with the fickleness of sense,Interring what sweet semblance one would save.Adults, however, know the story well,Grasping the harsh truth of higher love,Embracing what endures but through the will.SING OF ALL THE GOODNESS YOU’VE BEEN GRANTEDSing of all the goodness you’ve been grantedIn a life where little might be sung.Xylophones and bells will play alongTo give you the embrace you always wantedYet always had, the wellspring of your song.For though the past can never be recanted,In every moment love is ever strong.Visions may be heavenly or haunted,Even as sweet music can’t be wrong.

Let’s Write a Poem Togheter!

To write poem books that sell millions of copies you need extraordinary talent but to write a fairly good poem you don’t have to be David Frost. The only way to find out you are a David Frost, an Emily Dickinson or the person who likes to write poetry and has fun doing it – is to write. Where should you begin? Let’s go over some techniques!

 Reread a poem you truly love. I love Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s The Arrow and the Song.  (Excerpt)

   Long, long afterward, in an oak

   I found the arrow, still unbroke;

   And the song, from beginning to end,

   I found again in the heart of a friend.

Ask yourself what you like about that poem you find very special. E.g.: I find this poem short and sweet. It makes me wonder.  Write down what you experience when you read your favorite poem.

In this case, I am fascinated by the theme of friendship.  I also like the surrealism captured in the poem. The arrow is real, the song is real, but shooting them in the air is surreal.

Find a topic that gets you very excited: maybe a hobby, a sport, love, friendship, religion, your job or the job you would like to have. Let’s choose friendship. Decide if your poem is going to challenge or entertain the reader. Let’s choose to entertain. Write words that come to mind when you get excited. He who finds a friend finds a treasure! Why is it so?

   Friendship is important in life.

   Do you have a special friend?

   What makes someone your friend?

Etcetera.

Write some sentences with those words. E.g.: My friend John makes me laugh.  Sometimes I wonder he acts restarted or is he naturally goofy? We spend time together playing tennis, by having lunch , coffee or drinks. We share jokes, tall tales and laughter. Life seems better when we are together having a happy moment or facing a sad one.

Sort the sentences. Decide what goes in the beginning, tin he middle and at the end. You need an exciting beginning to capture the reader’s attention. Enhance or rewrite that first lines. Note if you start with fireworks, you must end with dynamite. You must also sustain the body of the poem with turns and twists to continue to excite the reader. Draft and redraft until what you get is the desired results. Leave the poem alone for a day or two, then go back and finalize it. Try your poem on family, friends or co-workers. We did it! Here is our sample poem:

   You know, Champ, how to make me laugh.

   Occasionally you get into crazy situations

   So I rescue you doing things on your behalf.

   We’re tested by tough times and expectations.

   Everything is more colorful when you’re around.

   Like you, I probably drive you crazy as often.

   The good times we share always richly abound.

   I’ll be there for you, you there for me. Amen!