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, 20 March 1986

Poem Number 91 -One Taken For A Ride - 20/3/1986

One suspicious night, I was asked,
To come along to a club crawl all night long.
Indeed, I did and boy wasn’t I delighted!
My memories of one person, still lingers on…………….

Sipping Coca-cola for the most of the night,
Our minds were concentrating on one thing.
From left to right, eyes pierced and watching on,
Every female cocasion human, with good looks for two.

The night was young, our bodies warmed up,
To match us with love’s surprise.
Three clubs we counted; one by one,
To end up in a result, of such fun.

Then when Lionel kept saying, “What a beauty!” or “You’re kidding!”
Upon my sight were two legs and a full moon,
(And that is what I had seen, from her back),
Unintended, I plumped myself with her, on the dancing floor.

There wasn’t any vibes at first, I felt,
It was just the echoing sound of the top-rod disco.
With repeated performance of dancing,
I then urged myself to look for a biro.

She (Deborah), said she would call me soon (within the next week),
But I haven’t heard. No telephone-ringing tune.
Once again, I have been taken for a ride,
There is nothing for me to hide. 

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