I live my Life one day at a time,
I look at you and hope you'll be mine.
Longing for you is now my constant rhyme,
Wishing like a sunflower for the sun to always shine.

I close my eyes and feel you hold my hand,
You look at me and promise to never leave me where I stand.
Just the two of us together,
Like lovers we dream of forever and ever.

But then I open my eyes and shout out for you, you can't hear
I reach out for you and you're not there.
Without you my life is like a desert
My empty heart left without a beat.

Like the vision of a softly painted scene,
Reality strikes!... You were but a Dream.

© 1996 Radica Sooknarine

On this island in the universe,
I feel alone and desolate.
A broken heart is like a broken seashell,
It can't be repaired and nobody wants it for his collection.
A love so long ago lost,
I begin to doubt if he will ever return
His heart now wonders the shores of another ocean,
A new wave touches his soul,
And a new air fills his heart.
On this island in the universe,
I feel alone and desolate.
The waters pick up my broken pieces.
For awhile I float,
In time I sink to the dark abyss.
No one can travel to pull me up.
The pressure pulverizes my pieces,
I become the sand,
Just a tiny grain to him,
Forever looked past.....

One day I was sitting alone in my room
A day of June in afternoon
The windows were closed to stop the Loo
My Air cooler was shouting on I don't know who
Betwixt all those noise a silence was spread
A silence so haunting as someone is dead
All at once I heard a knock on the door
Although I was not willing I step on the floor
But when with my dizzy eyes I looked out
I found no figure small or shout
Only sight seen is flying dust
Only sound heard is singing gust
I felt angry on someone
Either he has knocked for purpose or in fun
I shut the door and returned my place
I don't know why but I touched my face
I tried to go back to that silence again
But my efforts to get the lost peace was in vain
I discovered that I was not all alone this time
As I felt a touch on my spine
Yes, it was something that touched my soul
Which made my body tremble on a whole
But with time I understood that guy
To know him more I closed my eye
But unfortunately I felt asleep
And grabbed by dreams which were very deep
I saw in my dream that someone is in danger
Yes, he was my acquaint not a stranger
But what came next is in confusion
No, this is not the last conclusion
At seven in eve I heard a knock again
This time it was a lad from other lane
The hot news he gave me made me as cold as ice
I lost in afternoon someone who was very nice
One who had friendship bond with me as hard as rock
Was taken away far by an electric Shock.

You love the roses - so do I. I wish
They sky would rain down roses, as they rain
From off the shaken bush. Why will it not?
Then all the valley would be pink and white
And soft to tread on. They would fall as light
As feathers, smelling sweet; and it would be
Like sleeping and like waking, all at once!

You can take the moon by the spoonful
or in capsules every two hours.
It's useful as a hypnotic and sedative
and besides it relieves
those who have had too much philosophy.
A piece of moon in your purse
works better than a rabbit's foot.
Helps you find a lover
or get rich without anyone knowing,
and it staves off doctors and clinics.
You can give it to children like candy
when they've not gone to sleep,
and a few drops of moon in the eyes of the old
helps them to die in peace.


Put a new leaf of moon
under your pillow
and you'll see what you want to.
Always carry a little bottle of air of the moon
to keep you from drowning.
Give the key to the moon
to prisoners and the disappointed.
For those who are sentenced to death
and for those who are sentenced to life
there is no better tonic than the moon
in precise and regular doses.

To My Beard

What can I say but I am sorry,
I apologize for what I do to you,
my daily ruthlessness and cruelty.
What can I do but ask for your forgiveness
and your patience. For someday,
I promise you, someday I swear
on the beards of the prophets
and on the beard of the poet Whitman and
on the beard of the president Lincoln,
I will not stop you any longer,
I will let you go free, I will take down
the fence around you made of sharp blades.
For someday, I promise you, I will let
you run wild through the valleys
of my face like a stallion, I will let you
wander over the desert of my face
like a holy man in his vision of heaven
and hell, I will let you grow, blossom
and flourish, and I will stroke you
and comb you and keep you orderly
and free of knots and tangles,
and you in turn will make me look
distinguished, a wise old man as I stroke
you looking serious, looking as though
I were thinking deep thoughts about
life and death. But I will be thinking
only about you, my beard, my second face,
and this will be our secret.

Wedding Poems