WB01342_.gif (412 byte)HOME    WB01342_.gif (412 byte)INDEX





Uk.jpg (1708 byte) We are waiting for your poems... Uk.jpg (1708 byte)









Years are going, time is passing.
Dreams are coming but not in reality.
Someone is special to me.
But has gone for away from me.
He was one minute here
And was gone away.
Someone is special to me.
Is it true that he has gone? 
Am I lying?? 
Someone like him I have never
Seen before,
Because he was special to me.
I see him at night in the sky.
I see his face near my eyes.
No one knows how much I miss him,
Every hour, every minute, every second.
When I see him in the photos
It seems he is alive.
Because he was special to me. 
Without him it such a boring,
And I feel so alone.
Please, hug me and hold me so tight in your arms.
Please, don’t leave me alone I want to be near you.
And tell you about my feelings.
Because you are always special
Kind to me
Someone like him I have never seen before,
Someone so special was to me.
Someone like him.

                                                                          Hamida Shams
WB01345_.gif (616 byte)RETURN






I remember
as a toddler,
when the sky first turned
a threatening gray,
how I went a running down
St. Ann's awning-shaded way,
to get away
from heavy driven rain.

I remember
how I watched
from St. Ann's basement door, 
as gusts of southwest wind
drove sheets of rain
like long white spikes,
across the concrete way,
refreshing the summer air,
dispelling the sullen gray.

                                                     Virgil Gelormino
WB01345_.gif (616 byte)RETURN





For S.V.O. Boys,

the Merry-GO-ROUND

was a favorite place to be,

in the early evening

on summer days.

But a few yards

from the vegetable garden,

boys, sitting or standing,

lined its sides.

With peals of delight,

they'd pump the ride

until it wildly dipped and whirled

round and round about.

And with mischievous eyes,

on the vegetable garden,

they'd sing

to the tune

of "Clementine":

"In the garden,

in the garden,

in the garden swipin' pears,

in the garden,

in the garden,

in the garden swipin' pears.

                                          Virgil Gelormino WB01345_.gif (616 byte)






satin petals of crimson
rise slowly to his lips,
anticipating their kiss.

he tenderly places this love
on the fragrant flower as
he watches her dreaming face.

touching the wet satin to
loves blushed cheek, his
rose petals gently kiss her.

he wonders how he can
write words to describe
this moment from his heart

when mere poetry in an
earthly language can not
describe what he feels.

in this silence, he writes
i love you's to her
from his overflowing heart.

                                           Jodi Paz ( Kimba ) WB01345_.gif (616 byte)RETURN






Small fragile hand reaches out seeking warmth.
"Take me with you down your flower path."
Sparkling emerald eyes wide with childlike wonder
trust so completely in a tender heart, they
abandon all to follow where this way may lead.

Warm comfort hand braids into tiny fingers
leading through fields of violets and daisies.
The dark diamonds of soft protective eyes
show simple unspoiled beauty, their treasure.
Holding up the world to a heart it loves.

The sunshine of love, caresses two lovers as
green grass is kissed by sweet honey dew.
Twilight embraces the amber tones of softness
as my love becomes everything that is you.
Secure in this fogless journey, I hold your hand.

                                   Jodi Paz ( Kimba ) WB01345_.gif (616 byte)RETURN





Sad and bewildered,
eight six year olds,
newly arrived
from St. Ann's Infant Home,
sit on a long green bench
in the basement hallway
of the boys' dormitory
at St. Vincent's Orphans Home.

An older boy,
directs their attention
to a row of coat hooks
on the wall before them,
assigning each a numbered hook
which also serves
as laundry number.

This done,
the children find themselves alone
to sort things out as best they can.

Frank, an older boy,
sits down beside
his homesick brother,
holds him by the hand.
Then taking first
his little brother's thumb,
he follows with each finger,
as he says:
"This little piggy went to market.
This little piggy stayed home.
This little piggy had roast beef.
This little piggy had none.
And this little piggy went,
Wee! Wee! Wee! Wee!
all the way home."

His little brother,
brimming with a merry laughter,
Frank continues on:

Grabbing first his forefinger,
then his thumb,
he says:
"See my finger.
See my thumb.
See my fist.
You'd better run,
you son of a gun!"

At this,
his little brother bursts in laughter,
dispelling all his present woe.

Then rising,
Frank, with arm around
his brother's shoulders,
walks with him,
around the basement floor.
As they walk,
he flaps his little brother's ears,
all the while saying:
"Green ears, green ears,
moldy ears, moldy ears."

Forgetting now his separation
from his infant home,
Frank's youngest brother,
falls in stride with life
at his new home.

                                   Virgil Gelormino WB01345_.gif (616 byte)RETURN





Italy.jpg (930 byte) IL FIGLIO PERDUTO

I was still talking about rights
When, all of a sudden,
I've seen Jesus
Stilling a car
Because he didn't trust
His father
And He neede a ride

An ant built her house
Towards North
And she put a red carpet
So that Jesus couyld see the Way

Deep in the desert
The night bites the air
And a palm, ridiculously lonely,
Plays cards
With God. He didn't see
God cheating
And he still thinks Jesus will turn Home,
For dinner.

But God knows
His child was lost;
Because He's old
And his empire tired.
Jesus got into a bar;
He's talking to a stripper
About feelings
And so God died
Once more
After Sarte's preddiction.

                                   Erica WB01345_.gif (616 byte)RETURN





Italy.jpg (930 byte) ...E OLTRE

Body smiles in sun's
shameless play over
landscape wrecked
during woman's fall
river streams glaringly
towards receding horizon
gaze catches body
in the chasm of a dragon
eyes catch gaze
in the point of convergence
veils wordless being
- rhapsody of names faces eyes
dispensible -
unveils being touched
in deepest soil
archaic woman gathers
dismembered limbs
gaze without tense
bridges present past future
in pupil without horizon
woman finds her freedom
to be, her passion.

                          Yvonne Martinsson WB01345_.gif (616 byte)RETURN





Italy.jpg (930 byte) ESPOSIZIONE

We stand alone,
the tree outside my window
and I inside.
She, stripped of her foliage,
and I, bereft of pride.
She stands with quiet dignity
despite the gnarls showing
and with serenity
awaits the winter's snowing.

                                         Terry Silver WB01345_.gif (616 byte)RETURN