My Twitter Poems 14 - 1, ( 2010 Dec 28th & 29th )

MTP: 14 


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MTP: 13 


We strive for peace but still we hurt & kill.
We want peace but still we don't do want needs to be.
Do we want it, are we willing to fight for peace.






MTP: 12


I hurt but the pain will go away.
The memory of it takes longer to fade.
Its my choice to feel this pain.
For through it my nirvana will be gained.






MTP: 11


Could have been a racist, if it wasn't Martin Luther King.
Would have been a racist, if it wasn't for "I have a dream".
It hit at the time, it hit me at 13.






MTP: 10 


This hunger it eats at me.
I eat yet it doesn't fill me.
This burns in me, burns me.
It grows, never stops.
The hunger is you , the hunger is me.






MTP:  9


Look at yourself, hold a mirror up.
Do you see yourself or a self lie.
How you treat others may give a clue.
But do you know you?!






MTP:  8


Violence was my parent.
It became my destroyer, my enemy.
It grew to become my friend, my understanding.
Now my savour cause I can but choose not.






MTP:  7 


You can hurt me but it'll never be enough.
You can kill me but live again.
You can destroy me but I rise stronger.
I am love eternal.






MTP:  6


There are many in need.
Should I help.
Don't know them, not friends.
If I don't then who am I, what I am.
To give a helping hand.
In this, true humanity.






MTP:  5


Strength, bravery, faith, belief, confidence & trust are the pure qualities needed.
If you choose to give someone the power over you.
The power over you to make you weak.






MTP:  4


In darkness you give me light.
When the fears take me your embrace is my haven.
I'm strong but with you I'm become Hercules.






MTP:  3


I change, evolve.
Improve myself to be better & greater than before.
Now I change again: in small & large ways.
I shall become perfect.






MTP:  2


So it is close to hand.
I am unstoppable in making this true.
My force of will makes it so.






MTP:  1


My dream became a wish.
This wish became a hope,
and the hope is slowly becoming a reality.

Poem: Manners

" Manners "


Social manners,
what are these?


Polite formulas to keep things balanced?
Consideration for others?
To create a homogenised beings?


Business manners,
are they really?


Or just ways to derive profit?
To polite ways to take your money?
To con, cheat, deceive?


Table manners,
Why have them?


Why not, just eat?
hands, fingers, feet.
It is the same, yes?
Once inside the tummy.


Manners,
who made them?


What if,
what if we did not have them?


What if then?




Syrbastyian (Amaya)

Poem: " Softlife "

" Softlife "

Here I sit smoking a cigarette,

on the other side people are sick.

I sit drinking wine,

there people lack even water to drink.

Sitting here,

sitting in my soft life.

People die for basic needs,

die not having, what I take for granted.

Do I truly feel this,

do I really see it.

No I do not,

not in my soft life.

Syrbastyian (Amaya)

Poem: "I Know I Have Said It"

" I Know I have Said It "

I know I have said.

I know you have heard it.

A million times,

a million times,

a million and more times.

But each time is the first time.

The first time for me.

Each time it is new.

It makes my heart skip a beat.

Syrbastyian (Amaya)

Poem: Keep On Believing

"Keep On Believing"

Children keep on believing,
fly around the world tonight.

Children keep on dreaming,
recreating the world each night.

Children keep on imagining,
building castles in the sky.

Children keep on seeing things,
with your eyes filled of wonders tonight.

Children keep on being children,
the world needs your magical light.

Syrbastyian (Amaya) 

Poem: Capable of

"Capable of"

What am I capable of?

I am capable of many things.

The greatest kindness, generosity and love.
The greastest evil, violence and coldness.

Yes I have these qualities.

What am I able to do?

I will give you all that I have.
My money, my clothes and yes my life.

I can give nothing.
Unfeeling.

I can,
harm or help
hurt or heal
damage or repair
destory or build.

Yes I have these qualities.



Syrbastyian (Amaya)

Poem: There Is No Thing

 "There Is No Thing"

There is not one thing,
you can do to me that we harm me.

There is nothing, no pain,
you can give me that will hurt me.

There is nothing you can do,
to make me blink.

I am nothing, stone, ice, cold.
I am numb to all harm or pain,
that you can cause me.

World you can do nothing to me.
I survive, I live, I survive.
I always do.

But be warn.
Harm the ones I love,
harm my sweetness,
My wrath will know, no bounds.
I will tear your soul apart.

Syrbastyian (Amaya) 

Poem: Do Nothing

"Do Nothing"

Millions cry,
yet we do nothing.

Millions can't see,
yet we do nothing.

Millions can't fill their bellies,
yet we don't do anything.

Millions are sick!
Millions DIE!

Yet we do Nothing Nothing and NOTHING.

Syrbastyian (Amaya) 

Poem: Changes

"Changes"

Changes, good or bad.
They happen,
they are in ways needed.

Changes,
needed, wanted or not.

They bring new things,
sometimes good, some not,
but its a part of life.

Changes are all the time.

We don't see them at times.

Think we, they stay the same,
but in everything there is change.

All things change.

Syrbastyian (Amaya) 

Poem: Come With Me

"Come With Me"

Come with me,
you and I.

Go with me,
a new life.

Dance with me,
together in rhythm.

Come with me,
you, me, us,
this time.

Syrbastyian (Amaya)

Poem: IF YOU ASK

"If You Ask"

If you ask me to cook for you,
I will say sure what would you like.

If you ask me to massage you,
I will say certainly what oil would you like.

If you ask me to kiss you,
I will say definitey its my pleasure to.

If you ask me to hold you,
I will say absolutely I will hold you all night.
If you ask me to die for you,
I will say, yes I am able to,
BUT I will live for you and not die, that I promise you.

Syrbastyian (Amaya)

Poem: Love You, Two

" Love You Two "




I like your nose.
I like your toes.
I like you feet.
You have nice teeth.
I like your smile, 
it shines through your beautiful eyes.
I like the clothes you wear,
especially when you have no underwear.
I like all things about you.
I guess I am trying to say is that I like you.




Syrbastyian (Amaya)

Poem: There Is

" There Is "


If there is love, let me know it, for it's knowing is greater than the loss of it.


If there is love, let me see it, the radiant beauty of it will burn in me when my eyes can no longer see.


If there is love, let me hear it, it's heavenly sound fills me with tears, and it reverberates through me soul when my ears fails in winter years.


If there is love, let me feel it, the loss of it will destroy me, crush my soul to nothingness, turn me dead inside
but this pales to never having felt the love of true love.



One may learn to love again? and may find another love?


Of true love, only love, real love. one can never experience that again.


For this love is made of the stars, it's made of dreams, It is a millenium event. 


Born and destine to be.


This love, once had can never be blessed again upon we.



If there i love, let me touch it, to hold in my arms while it sleeps.

A simple kiss, Oh! how magical, to feel it's caress on my lips.Hold close and lay in love, for the two become as one.

If there is love, let me experience it, It is the most joy est thing that one can have in all one's years.

If there is love, let me have it, even if it one day I may lose it? having it is far greater than my tears and empty years.


If there is love, There is love.



By Syrbastyain (Amaya)

Poem: Come Again

" Come Again "




Here's some news,

I am free from 2 to 5,

Wish to see your heavenly wings.
Wish to fly  with you in the clear blue sky.
But if i remember yamada or ? has reserved you,

Alas not enough time.

No need to worry, no need to cry.

Time will come again,

To meet, to share, to enjoy our smiles.

Until then keep our thoughts and time together in happy memories,

For we are born to be, you and I.

By Syrbastyian (Amaya)

Poem: It's Not

" It's Not "

It's not that I've loved and lost.
It's that, that I have loved.

It's not that I have seen and forgot.
It's that, that I saw.

It's not that I have heard a word.
It's that, that I have listened.

It's not that my fight was just or not.
It's that, that I have fought.

It's not that I say or not.
It's that, that I think.

It's not that is not or not.
It's that, that there is.




By Syrbastyian / Amaya

Poem: Dream

" DREAM "


Off to sleep I go,
To journey through various dreams,

I will see you there,
With your princess glow and angel wings.

When I wake,
I will know,

You are not just my sleeping fantasy.

My dream,

My dream come true,

My reality.

Poem: Love You, One

" Love You "

Love your nose,
Love your toes,

Love your clothes,

Love you with no clothes,

All I am trying to say is I love you.


Syrbastyian Amaya

Poem: Train Home

" Train Home "


I am sitting in the 1st train-car on the 2nd bench-seat to the right.

The train has started it's forward journey to deliver me home.

Passing stations, I watch the people and imagine their day - their conversations.

As I am,
I am reminded of wandering thoughts travelling through my mind.

I don't stop them,
I let them journey so they find their way home.

By Syrbastyian

" SOMETIMES "

" SOMETIMES "

Sometimes I feel I am the summer storms that blow her off the trees.
To fall so gentle and gracefully like light pink snow on the breeze.
And yet, in this beautiful action, she will wither and disappear or worse be trodden under feet.

Sometimes I think I am the tree, standing strong to support her needs.
Providing a safe haven to relax, to grow, to blossom so that she may become as wonderfully magnificent as she can be.

Her internal-external beauty and radiance enthralls me, captivates and goes through me.
She holds me. I can not run away or escape.
But do I really want to.
Confused.

I could break her. Crush her petals.
Chase her and force her away from me.
It would be oh so easy.
But I can not, want not, will not.
Hurting her is hurting me.
Hurting is her would be killing me.

What to do?

This scares me, she scares me, opening scares me.
Break the walls, keep the walls, make a hole in the walls.
Move forward, move back, move closer, move away, move nothing, move to stay.
Pause, wait, go.
Take the plunge, sit on my hands.

What to do? What to do?

I am honest but should I be.
Honesty can hurt but honesty is me.
I want to be faithful but can I be.
Maybe I will not.
Ever be.
Need to be.

Point may break, point to change, point to think.
The point may be major or may be mundane.

Oh but but, but oh.

The thought of her makes my heart flutter.
The sight of her makes my heart pound like a sledgehammer.

The feel of her body against mine, next to mine.
Her fragrance all around me, covering me like a perfect blanket.
The sweet honey taste of her on my lips.
I die and am reborn with each breath, each touch, each taste.
Each time, every time.

Sometimes I am sure.
Sometimes I am confused
She is always a wonder, a mystery, magic.

Sometimes I am the summer storms.
Sometimes I am the tree.



Syrbastyian

FOREWORD: Poem - " America Is Me "

Straight to the point:

I am not American or as we say in Australia "a Yank / Yankee" and I have never wanted to be American. (Yes I know that in the U.S.A. a "Yankee" is an American from the northern states in America but for the rest of the world a "Yankee" simply means an American)

I am an Australian living in Tokyo, Japan.

So it may seem strange to you that I would write a poem about being American and living in the United Sates of America.

My reasons for doing are many fold:

1) It was a challenge for myself to write as another person may see, feel and, or think.

2) America voting a black man to be the president of their country is a turning point for America and quite frankly an historical event. It has shown the world the that democracy and equal rights for all DO WORK.

3) I have spoken to many of my American friends, Americans I know less well, Americans in chat rooms & BBS's throughout the world about their views and feelings at seeing Mr. Obama elected as President.
And also watching TV such as CNN etc and seeing the reaction of people in America, the TV-people and the people around the world.
I have tired to capture all this in my poem "America Is Me". I hope that I have done them justice.

Syrbastyian