I sit here in silent awe
with a hint of admiration.
You need not know,
you need not be aware.
There is a quiet smile
spreading across my world.
Poems from Ondrej’s heart
I sit here in silent awe
with a hint of admiration.
You need not know,
you need not be aware.
There is a quiet smile
spreading across my world.
This is spontaneous
but I think—and all ought to think likewise—
we spend too much time thinking of the other;
too much time being elsewhere
too much time away from where we need to be
altogether too much time from where we must be.
And that is a secret place:
few—only the truly Wise—know of it
us mortals can only strive
to be truly alive
by discovering the sheer beauty
the beauty of you next to me
the bliss of no worry, indeed far from it;
drop everything, so be it!
For you have found how be present
present in this very moment.
Christmastime
is a special time
different from all the other days of the year
wishing for that bit of snow
and hugging your parents tight
it’s a glimmer of hope
in these tough pandemic times.
In short, it’s a time—
a wonderful time;
It’s Christmastime!
It is a glorious night
with the pale moon bright
an evening full of thought
upon thy touch I sought
the desire of your caresses
feeds my unconscious stresses
and the sight of your eyes
the memory—oh goodbyes.
O what would I give if I knew
that I could see my lady anew.
For, my lady, patience is precious
alas the waiting—that is truly arduous.
Return from a faraway land
Her eyes shining so bright
full of hope, joy and emotion;
His smile—deep, genuine
An almost otherworldly sight.
Waiting for months on end
with a terrible disaster raging on
indeed, the end seemed out of sight
till their son did postcards send.
That was the joy of two parents—
an indescribable sea of emotions
the smile on their faces said it all
their son had come home, once and for all.
Resting my gaze upon your softness
no contact—but my eyes
feel you, caress you—
The softness of your golden sheets
flowing in the late evening breeze
yet——nothing moves.
Just the rolling drum deep inside,
its pace quickens:
a driving, rushing beat.
With every moment,
with every passing breath,
The piercing calm blue of your eyes
torments my imagination with your sighs.
When outside it all seems black and white
or a rather dull shade of grey,
everything’s a depressing sight
your eyes look whichever way.
In times like these, it is music that brings colour
all you need to do is sit still and listen
it really is a kind of emotional juggler
as the orchestra glows in unison.
Yes, it glows—a radiating hue
deep crimson to soothing navy blue
its crescendos pulse in the dark
and, in a way, so does AC/DC’s Back in Black.
Let me tell you:
when you meet a friend, kindred spirit or someone special
don’t—whatever you do,
start cracking economics jokes.
Their demand is in low supply
and people’s humour for them even more;
they’ll all just say “bye”
with a rather sullen face.
You might call that a negative externality;
let me tell you: stop.
We all know of your fantastic ability
but one’s enough.
Diversification of your jokes is key
much like many things in life
and your inability to see
past macro is, um, a problem.
So next time you see your grandma or next Juliet,
please err away from trade surpluses
or anything remotely soviet.
You’ll thank me later.
Dear Lady,
Before last week we have not met
vague knowledge of each other’s existence
last week: it was all like a movie set
of two worlds in confluence.
Your shapes of before were not clear
mine were of plenty vibrant colours
I knew not what to fear
but those surreptitious emotional jewellers.
Last week, your colours matched mine
our words echoing in unison
was this some sort of crude sign
or an echo of my ambition?
Now, I wonder if you
with your golden hair and sapphire eyes
had felt these emotions too
instead, were these simply colourful lies?
I know only time will tell
I need patience, not this wicked spell!