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!

Thursday, 8 March 1984

Poem Number 53 - Arguments! - 8/3/1984

Is language so necessary, to abuse anyone else?
Cruising, to the point they want to left by themselves.
How much can one human say to another human,
Picking out, opinional weak points and brining it out, to the open.

Unforeseen daily life, is expected of me,
I do what I want to do…if what I want to do is straightaway.
For I am not blind, but I can really see,
Not doing household duties, every single day.

It should not be expected of anyone, to me,
To work 8-10 hours a day, after feeling tired not even awake.
To get any part of the house cleaned up, at once,
This should be done by the person, who stays home all the day.

So, why was I hit, like a batsmen going for a sixer?
So duly unfair, was it to me.
To be told that I should enter,
Through the back door, not through our own front door!

Next time she makes requests. Like two pieces of wood burning oh, so bright,
I will remain my silence and let her stew on it.
If I explode on her, won’t it be such a great fright,
Giving her, two sticks of gelignite!

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