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 was happy writing poetry - that's the most important thing, I think.
My favorite poets are Dorothy Parker, Ogden Nash, Walt Whitman, Christina Rossetti, Edgar Allan Poe, Rudyard Kipling, Roald Dahl, Langston Hughes and Lord Alfred Tennyson.
My poems have been featured in inspirational sites, 'A Breath of Inspiration' including works such as 'He is In My Boat' 'Emilie'(Jewel Chest awardee - www.faithwriters.com) , 'The Greatest Gift', 'Apolutrosis', 'Reislience' (published in The Anguilian) and 'Robert'. I write personalized poetry, memorial poems, wedding poems, and poems for baby's christening.
The poem 'Wolf', 'An Eerie Tale', 'A True Ghost Story', 'Death Comes to Any Age' 'The Pastor's Letter' 'For My Lost Brother' 'Sister Elly Ann' 'Merienda' are all true stories.
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(Note: THERE IS NO POET NAMED CYNTHIA MARIE BUHAIN here on Poemhunter, an impostor used my email address to create this bogus poet account. Please be informed I have only one account here.)
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The eyes are windows of the heart
Wherein transparency will show
A myriad feelings to impart
From where in sadness, tears do flow.
...
I met a doctor who had cancer,
He could not believe it was stage four.
At sixty, to me he was younger,
He said he still had a lot to live for.
...
Each time I hear a baby's laughter
I feel a tickle in my heart.
I have to stop and listen better
...
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.
...
Consummate pain
Like a cruel wrench
Gripped his heart
And crushed, it bled
...