Writing poetry is passion, like breathing. If my writing touches but one life and gives it hope, then I have done my purpose in writing. I like poems that rhyme, have rhythm, and meaning, or poems that tell a story. At present, I am into the study of Asian forms of poetry such as the Naani (Indian Telugu form) and the Japanese poetry forms Haiku and Tanka. I like writing the Ninette, Pleiades, Octelle, Kyrielle, and Cinquian, Couplet, and the Septolet.
I've loved reading poetry since I was a child and some kids thought I was weird but I enjoyed it. I tried to write poems as early as age 8, some were published by the nuns in our school paper. One thing I found out, I ... more »
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- Traveler (rictameter)
- This Ebullient Pen
- Woman (International Woman's Day 2015)
- Thoughts Are Like Trees (Naani- 25 syll...
- Writing Thoughts (Naani poem)
- I've Never Known Winter
- SOWING AND REAPING
- A Writer Is A Writer
- HEARTS (quatrains)
- We Did Not Choose to Be But We Are
- The First One
- Red Bucket Ship
- Here Today, Gone Tomorrow
- Our God, Alive!
Cynthia BuhainBaello Poems
The Eyes Are Windows
The eyes are windows of the heart Wherein transparency will show A myriad feelings to impart From where in sadness, tears do flow.
A Baby's Laughter
Each time I hear a baby's laughter I feel a tickle in my heart. I have to stop and listen better
A Father's Tears (Free Verse)
Consummate pain Like a cruel wrench Gripped his heart And crushed, it bled
Clay Story (10 Syllables Per Line Poem)
Strange how Life can be more than a story Plots and characters bring a pleasant thrill With laughter and tears, some sad and funny Tragedies and heartaches may bring Pain's chill.
My heart's forever grateful For in my life I found A love so true and faithful Intense and without bounds.
A Lonely Man
Unfounded were his concerns About the need for ample finances Marriage to the woman for whom he yearns To share his life's remaining pages.
A Heart That Worships
A heart that worships is so emptied Of fears, of doubts and worrying It speaks in joy for what God did In praise and thanks it always sings.
Yes I Am A Christian, Does That Bother Y...
My words they come As I want them to They may cut some Does that bother you?
A Father's Legacy
My Father's words are my legacy He gave the pen of ardent writing. The love for books and careful study, And wealth of knowledge gained by reading.
Charm is deceptive and may not be sincere, And beauty of a face may not soon be here. As fleeting as Time, that faded Yesterday- Appearances do not last, it can wither Today.
Words Like Pebbles
Words like pebbles Thrown down a pond Will cause some ripples That go around.
Midnights breathe an eerie silence Such a distinct hush that even crickets hear In subdued chirping they intently hearken Each muffled sound says the twelfth hour's near.
The Hunter (Narrative Poetry)
His time and wealth all there For him, possessed just to enjoy But hunting was a pleasure where His shooting skills he could employ.
I tell the life story Of the lines in your face, I have a good memory Of the years with each gaze.
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
The Eyes Are Windows
The eyes are windows of the heart
Wherein transparency will show
A myriad feelings to impart
From where in sadness, tears do flow.
The eyes will say contents of heart
The speech two lovers freely speak,
For Silence eloquently starts
Romance in muted communique.
The eyes are windows of all cares,
Display the sad and wearied soul;
Distant looks and empty stares
Reveal a man who is not whole.
His weak attempts to somehow hide
What's clearly felt and seen-
Will showcase all the stuff inside
Deep secrets of where love had ...