Only when I had to in school. I wrote this one (sort of mild Homo Erotica) for class. It isn't very good.

Come sit by me and I shall stroke your boyish brow
Or better yet explore your passion's exquisite form
If you would but allow.

For pleasures of man to man
Delights in naughty ways
Of forbidden desire of such beautiful boys
To while away my bawdy days.

Cukoo calls.
Let me sleep a little longer

Actually, yes, I do write poetry from time to time ^_^

This one is about an epiphany I had when I almost died (car, cliff):

When I woke up, ears ringing, upside-down in the snow,
I noticed my shoes were missing.
This is not a metaphor,
nor is it any kind of implication of a cold world spun on its head,
though for years I have been trying to pinpoint the exact moment
in which my peripheral vision was expanded to include not only the past,
but also the present/future.
As elusive as gravity,
it seems to always be flying from my stubborn fingertips.
What I mean is that nothing is certain:
my soul is an avalanche perched on the mountainside,
awaiting that catalyst, gaining momentum.
And when I least expect to, I suddenly recall
the fear my head felt in facing the "Great Unknown,"
that vast black wilderness,
although my heart was feeling free...

I'll post something else later if anyone is interested.

I write a lot about the Holocaust. I do it because my people are being forgotten and I feel like my Ancestors want me to. Here is a page with some:
http://proudromani.blogspot.com/.../...ocaust-poems.html

I write about my people:
http://proudromani.blogspot.com/.../...ry-abut-roma.html

... about racism (I can only find that one)
http://proudromani.blogspot.com/.../...about-racism.html

... one about my father:
http://proudromani.blogspot.com/.../...to-my-father.html

... and me:
http://proudromani.blogspot.com/2009/02/as-i-stand-poem.html

I wrote this for my husband because I love him so much.

Divine Love

With passion and with heart,
Our souls intertwined.
Creating a world between us,
That was stopped in time.

Breaking through the barriers,
We freed each others minds.
Held each other close and,
Created the Divine.

Love SoulFire

I wrote this when I was searching for my purpose. It helps me to remember why I chose this life I lead.

The Search

My wolf guide came to me,
In a vision to my soul,
Said it was time to set me free,
And to step into my role.

A spiritual healer,
Life guide to some.
An avid listener,
And bearer of wisdom.

I have been searching for spirituality,
For many, many years.
I never understood it was within me,
I had so many fears.

What would people think of me,
When I came out mystically.
Would they stop and stare at me,
Or would my soul finally be free?

Constrained by my perceptions,
I failed to see the Light.
I felt so many conceptions,
But didn’t know which one was right.

People would try to tell me,
That I should be this way or that.
I thought they were trying to sell me,
Another religious hat.

I finally gave up on the world,
And searched within my soul.
Soon a new Love unfurled,
And with wonder made me whole.

It did not end the search,
It was only the beginning,
After great amounts of research,
I finally find myself grinning.

For I am doing the work,
I’ve always been meant to do.
Inspiring others quarks,
Helping them find what’s true.

There are many paths to the source,
It matters not which one you choose.
Leave behind all your remorse,
And let your soul be your muse.

By SoulFire

I write poetry and song lyrics. I write because it makes me happy. The poem I'll share with you is called Hephaestus 18. It's about the apocalypse, or anti-materialism or something...

Put away your cameras, kids
Your rings and your cologne.
These smiles will leave no impression
Nor the things that you have on
In my mouth is a little blood
And in my hands are something new

So can you just settle down?

Before the fires go out?

I see them marching on Tell al-Mutesellim
With the waters close behind them,
Though I've forgotten how to swim.
And we gave our best in light of consequence
On the heels of Abauzit.
And we all go down in history.

So turn off your cell phones
There's no one left to call.
They've all gone out to see these signs
They've all gone out to fall
And on my lips are a few frightened words
And on my mind is something new

So can we all settle down?

Amid fires that will not go out.

I see them marching on Tell al-Mutesellim
With the furies close behind them
Singing "Alhamdulillah"
And we gave our best in light of consequence
With our daunting gift of freedom
And we all go down in history.

Sorry this poem is a bit more of a mad poem then a romantic poem. It explained what my ex was like, and is still posted in my myspace blogs to this day.

Do you fear what I fear?
Your imagination contradicts your own reality

Can you see what I see?
While pointing the finger you must also point it at yourself

Do you care like I care?
Someone is always above someone else in your mind

Can you love like I love?
Clouded by your own selfishness you do not understand love

Do you hear what I hear?
Words of care are words of annoyance to you

Can you feel what I feel?
Trying to bring a light into your darkness is hurtful

Do you perceive what I perceive?
Humanity to you is a foul thing, but that’s a destructive thought pattern

Can you tell of what I tell?
Your own problems defy you of a way of life without agony

Do you sense what I sense?
People destroying themselves while ignorant to destroying those around them

Can you define what I define?
Truth is a thing that you wont accept

Do you create what I create?
An individual society does revolve around fakeness foolish person

Can you forgive what I forgive?
Your own pride allows you to neglect others emotions for you

Do you apologize like I apologize?
You set your own rules and then defy them as you go

Will you find what I found?
Finding that of which you do not know of, i have found Understanding.

i write my poems for different reasons, love poems, hate poems, apoligies, mostly love though for my girlfriend

What i love about you
i love the way we laught until we cry,
that wed dance until we die
i love the way you look at me and say
please dont ever go away
when you take hold of my hand
and let me hold you where you stand

small simple and short

Forgive me
weve together for very long
and i know ive done alot wrong
i know im not the best
i understand im worse than the rest
i cant do alot right
but that doesnt mean ill give up the fight
i want you to know i love you
and when i say sorry, that its true
i want to keep you safe during the night
to hold you against me warm and tight
ill tear out my heart and put it in your hand
ill get infront of you where you stand
when all i can do is fall on my knees
and beg you and say please
forgive me

I write the occasional poem, usually because I am deeply moved. This is one I wrote right after 9/11:

The Heart of a Soldier

I met him at the Wall, that dark September day;
his eyes were clear and bright, although his hair was gray.
He wore a faded jacket, and as he knelt and prayed,
I looked in admiration at the medals there displayed.

Proud of my own new uniform, I stood straight and tall,
beside this older Veteran, now weeping at the Wall.

His hands seemed somehow faded, like the tiny flag they held.
He stumbled slightly as he rose; I now his cane beheld.

And as he looked at me, his eyes still filled with tears.
a smile of recognition came, despite my fewer years.

One glance at my chevron’d sleeve, another at my chest,
told him of my recent past, my face told him the rest.

“In Vietnam they said we lost;” deep pain now filled his eyes.
“But I remember, yes I remember, the agony and cries.”

“For many years I’ve kept this flag, and carried it with pride,
in mem’ry of our comrades there who fought and bled and died.”

“I tried to re-enlist,” he said, “They said I was too old.”
“And this old leg feels greater pain, ‘specially in the cold.”

My own eyes now filled with tears as he gave the flag to me.
“Carry this for all the others who died to keep us free.”

I think about that old Soldier, who passed to me the dream,
a’kneelin’ here with all my gear beside an Afghan stream.

I swear by all that’s holy that I will do my best,
to save the dream, then touch the flag now sewn into my vest.

“Duty, honor, Country,” now becomes my creed,
I serve the cause of liberty, I ride sweet freedom’s steed.

As we remount, the rotors whir, o’er Afghan plains we fly,
I touch the flag and now recall, “Old Soldiers never die.”

By Forrest Lee Horn
Copyright 9/14/01

______________________________ _____


This is an open verse sort of poem I wrote to my wife on our first wedding anniversary:

Before I Met You

I never knew that love at 65 would be more all-consuming than love at 25.


I never knew that the reason for all my broken roads was to make me worthy of you.


I never knew that love could be so deep it would heal me as no physician could.


I never knew that the very best choice is to marry your very best friend.


I never knew that a dispairing, broken-hearted old man could be loved into being a child again.


I never knew love could be so intense that simply thinking about you could often make me weep.


I never knew my days could be so filled with laughter and joy.


You are my soul, and you own my heart.


All that I am, or ever will be, and all that I have, or ever will have, is yours, now and forever.


And when all is said and done, say this: that Vicky loved me.