FROM THE POET

This is a series of poems written by John Svododa over a number of years. There are times of peak-where numerous poems were written & there are also times of lows where there are long periods between each poem. As the author is trying to reach a goal of 1001 (and then retire!!) it was never envisaged that this would be done over a short period of time. Poems can be humorous, ridiculing someone or something, show a meaning of hurt or love or even project feelings that not necessarily be directed to the same person/thing, can be a reflection of life or to be life. Most poems are trying to send a message to the reader be it not understandable or nonsense.

The idea of this poet is not to have any ill feelings against anyone but to be read by young whom can learn about life – and by the elderly look back at what could have been. Some are very personal- but who cares when you are currently living in a life that has total enjoyment. Suggestion is not to criticize but to take in the enjoyment of creative poetry make it meaningful and thus may be you can be an author.

SO NOW:

Please Read On!

Monday, 20 February 1984

Poem Number 47 - A Big Fright! - 20/2/1984

Shedding tears, is not my great delight,

I have given Michelle, such a big fright.
My mind is remembering, just the other night,
When I had had enough, yet I still don’t know, if what I did is right?

I want to live alone for a short while,
Maybe changing a great deal of my lifestyle.
I know one that is, I feel lost without Michelle,
But I cannot and will not live and share my lifestyle with anyone else.

People around us, did not help me as much,
Like our friends who were living with us.       
When you trust someone with confidence,
You expect the strictest secret, kept between them.

This happened to me, after I gave the O.k.,
For living in a new house with new friends.
When I confided with this person, by myself,
It really gets me, when she lets the other one know, by herself.

They are trying to work out, why I pick on her?
But I tried not to do, except for self-respect.
Telling me to do small things, for her every day,
She doesn’t like washing up (as she knows I would do it, anyway).

This “Debbie”, is the one reason why I left,
She made me feel so upset
My poems I have shared with Michelle.
Some of these may be nice or not very nice.

They wanted me to destroy my first poem of the eighteenth,
But as you can see, I’ve kept it in good order.
What I write is how I feel,
Or how I have felt, as well.
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