The Web Poetry Corner
DreamMachineThe Web Poetry Corner is a Dream Machine Site
The Dream Machine --- The Imagination of the World Wide Web
Google

The Web Poetry Corner

Alex Strick

of

London, England, UK

Home Authors Alphabetically Authors Date Submitted Authors Country Submission Rules Feedback



If you have comments or suggestions for Alex Strick, you can contact him or her at:
alex.strick@t-online.de (Alex Strick)


Find a book store near you, no matter where you are located in the U.S.A.!


Cerzan

...the best independent ISP in the Twin Cities

Gypsy's Photo Gallery


Poems dedicated to Siobhan

by

Alex Strick

Love

Lying here,
All is still
There is no room for fear
Not even a little tear.
I must make ready for the kill.
And using all my skill
I want to volunteer.

Love II

Butterflies rushing around,
That feeling of being,
On top of the mound.
Oh, love is that feeling.

Love III

Love is everything,
But at its loss,
Nothing.
Love is the boss.

Love IV

Shy but wanting to be noticed,
Desperate but not wanting her to know.
Will she notice?
Will she get to know?

JLS I

I love her.
I love her.
I love her.
What can I say?
No more.
No less.
But,
and save,
I love her.
Waiting
The agony is unbearable,
It is like a long, lengthened line,
waiting to be finished.
Paper cannot contain it
but I still have it,
that feeling of need
of that desire,
for
love.

JLS II

My heart turns shades
of purple and blue
at the thought of her face.
Those deep hues reaching me now,
mould me and I experience
a mere glimpse of real,
and pure,
joy.

JLS III

Wondering,
Whether...
or whether not.

JLS IV

Enquiries didn't help,
my heart was not satisfied,
maybe I'll have to go
the whole way on my own.

JLS V

Her mind I do not know,
but her face sure does tell.
Those freckles of intricate beauty,
each one like a star illuminating
the heavens contained in her face.
Her tall statue makes her like
her brother, but of course tall,
only makes,
a woman
beautiful.

JLS VI

Her figure
was crafted by God.
May heaven allow me to
smooth the rough edges.

JLS VII

Sitting here,
and knowing what could have happened,
is enough,
to torture me.

JLS VIII

My heart cries for her love,
only my body must create
that love inside her.
We must rear it like a child,
or kindle a fire until it burns
fiercer than my burning hearth now.

JLS IX

Her beauty astounds me
more than a man seeing his house alight
more than a woman catching that man,
lighting the fire.

JLS X

I can't describe what I feel now.
'Tis a mixture between love and anguish.
Anguish because I want her close to me now,
and love because she defines the word.

JLS XI

Wandering across the desert,
I meet her.
She meets I.
We talk of losses
and gains to be made.
The trials of married life were decided
and soon had we reminded.

JLS XII

Can her beauty be put on paper?
No.
Can she be sung of by great voices?
No.
How can I describe her then?
Aha! The above you must try.

JLS XIII

Her figure dominates my thoughts,
and I am obsessed with the mere,
and slight possibility
of a connection.

JLS XIV

Her freckles light up the world for me.
Creating a pathway free of hidden obstacles.
I keep running towards
the centre of that brilliant
radiance coming from
her heart.

JLS XV

A romance over
trillions of miles
is what I want.
That life of hope and
joy at each new message.

JLS XVI

But no, I want more.
A strong relationship,
with children
and a home to love my
three loves:
Life,
children
and
her of the irresistible beauty.

JLS XVII

No name to call,
no appellation of yet
but soon my dreams
of paper shall be properly named.

JLS XVIII

Sweetness is my
hearts yearning
for the nectar of love.

JLS XIX

Why can't I think of anything,
save her?
I feel as if I have known her
for a year.
But still know the shortness,
or lack of existence of our relationship.

JLS XX

Two people coming together
form a bond that soon,
becomes one.
How can I get her then,
to be my unified self?

JLS XXI

Should it be secret?
Should kindle my fire,
until it melts its own
pot and turns me mad.

JLS XXII

What if she were to die?
I should command myself
to that post amidst
visions of her
eternal beauty.

JLS XXIII

Now I know her name,
I am mystified,
as to why,
the name
is Siobhan.

JLS XXIV

No news even though
I waited.
Oh why?
I waited and they never
came.

JLS XXV

Should I tell John?
What's to stop me?
There's nothing wrong
with innocent
honesty.

JLS XXVI

Where is she?
That maiden of my dreams.
That white angel of
unsurpassable beauty
once sighted and
never forgotten.

JLS XXVII

It's eight and she's
not here.
Where
could she be?

JLS XXVIII

Her absence now
hurts me
most.
Why
can't she
be here with
me now.

JLS XXIX

I want to crawl
to her in
a mist.
O
why can't
I curl up
beside her and say
'I love you.'

JLS XXX

Could this work?
I hope so.
For everyone's sake.


Ode on Rejection

by

Alex Strick

I

Today I learnt about friendship
and of its importance.
They ride away on their horses
with heads proud and high.
What am I to do save be
trampled on in the continual stampede
that is my bruising through
and through.
My wounds bleed scarlet red
crimson and orange. The bruises,
green and blue are but landscape
on a silhouetted scene.

II

The dust clears and I wait to
regain my breath - taken from me
by those stallions proud.
The nightingale sings her song
loud and clear. The sky clears
and in an instant the sky is seen.
Clouds few and colours of majesty
pervade and I see the true worth of such
equine dreams.

III

Shutting off all else, we watch and
wait. The music sounds and the colours
are transformed. Tranquil melodies answer
the sweet chirp of the nightingale bird.
She flies away into the horizon taking
all my hope and dream. What was perfect
suddenly becomes incomplete. The power of
that canonic progression has been undone
and I knew of its impending path.
In the air my melody fleets away until I see it no more.
She was my song, my life, my hope.