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!

Saturday, 17 March 1984

Poem Number 58 - Lessons - 18/3/1984

Life may be difficult to enjoy,
When you have a lot of worries, on your brain.
But, the fun of life is to pull you together,
Out of the dungeons, you are placed into.

With or without help, this is important!
Your friends will advise you, in the very best way,
To lend a hand of long length,
To look at each other and still laugh, everyday!

I’ve lived life of a thirty year old,
I’ve listened and learnt the hard deals, I am told.
I will act a lot more, adultly,
And of course, more intelligently.

May the lessons I’ve learnt, in these past months,
Teach me to be strong and not fall in love, at once.
A man yet I am, to live a pure life,
I won’t ever decide to cut my throat, with a knife.

Relaxed and comforted I am, by a very nice family,
To have in mind, that my ex-lover could threaten us all.
The parents of whom, I know I’ll always feel welcome,
The front door is open, to me at home.

Special gifts have the guts and courage,
Special gifts to assist in my problems, in all possible ways.
They have given me help in which,
No other person could or would think of.

Stars are bright: a shinning light,
The darkness fills the air.
The Southern Cross is pointing out,
A place to where these friends of mine, will go!

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