By: Dan Nelson

His deep expressions of love for her would be his worldly gifts,
Beyond her...he had always had a higher purpose,
To give freely to all with an open heart,
To prove that love was real,
To show others how much a man can love a woman,
To bare his heart and soul to all and without restraint.
To reveal to them his complete devotion to her.
He would become her ever loving poet,
Her best friend.
The man who loved her the most.
And she would become his most beautiful work of art,
His eternal inspiration,
His masterpiece...


Dan Nelson


Daily Quote: "Go within every day and find the inner strength
so that the world will not blow your candle out".
- Katherine Dunham

Linguist Corner-SPANISH: flojo, adjective / weak; lazy
Flojo is often used to describe things which are weak, from people:
Example:
Todavía tiene las piernas muy flojas.
His legs are still very weak.
...to tea:
Este té está muy flojo.
This tea is very weak.

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Posted by V. Mahfood - 2012

The sun rather feebly struggled to shine,
Causing fractions of sky to light up.
Flowers pushed heavy heads out of the soil,
Drunk with sweet water from nature's own cup.


The grass sparkled and glimmered - a carpet of emeralds,
Drops of water reclined on silk petals of rose.
Trickling down to the ground as a gentle, cool breeze,
Spread the heady perfume throughout orchard groves.


Birds shook sodden wings and  soft feathered heads,
Rejoicing in the golden, warm sunshine.
Their sweet tunes travelled throughout the air,
As they wove their love nests with dried twigs and twine.


The sun transformed to a ball of orange flame,
Was merciless soon in its sphere of fierce heat.
Shining in all its supreme glory down,

On the freshly-washed world now ready to greet.

V. Mahfood
Coffee Table Poetry For Tea Drinkers



Daily Quote: "I do not feel obliged to believe that the same God who has endowed us with sense, reason, and intellect has intended us to forgo their use."
-Galileo Galilei


Linguist Corner-SPANISH: semanal, adjective /weekly, per week
- Hay un mercado semanal.
There’s a weekly market.
- Como media, los uruguayos trabajan 38 horas semanales.
On average, Uruguayans work 38 hours per week.





Posted by V. Mahfood - 2011

By: Joe Mohr

Joe Mohr
Poems of JoeM's


Daily Quote: "To leave the world a bit better ...
to know that one life has breathed easier because you have lived.
This is to have succeeded."
- Ralph Waldo Emerson

Linguist Corner-ITALIAN: mondiale: worldwide / adjective.
Example sentence: La seconda guerra mondiale è stata più terribile della prima.
Translation: The Second World War was more terrible than the First.

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Posted by V. Mahfood - 2011

By: Vinod Madhok
 Hold me in fingers of your thoughts
hide me in silence of your words
make me sleep in bosom of your dreams
caress me with warmth of your smile

Who wants to wake up
when sleep has so much to offer
it rhythms me back to life
in world of my words
few words...few pauses ..
and depth of silence



Vinod Madhok
copyright © Sept,2011
Vinod Madhok blog


Daily Quote: Miracles are a retelling in small letters of the very same story which is written across the whole world in letters too large for some of us to see.
- C.S. Lewis

Linguist Corner-SPANISH: cuenta, noun / to realize; to notice
Example:
- Me di cuenta de que era inútil seguir.
I realized there was no point in going on.

(Apart from using cuenta to mean bill, use it with the reflexive form of dar in the phrase 'darse cuenta' when you realize something is the case. Notice how it’s followed by de and que.)

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Posted by V. Mahfood - 2011

In the quiet of the evening, he sat rocking, rocking slowly
And was warmed by the sun's gentle fingers.
He heard the chickens fighting, scratching greedily for grain
And felt the dog shift at his feet where always he had lain.

Soon he clasped his fiddle then began to play a tune
And sing sweet praises and devotion to his Maker.
"You held my hand, dear Father, and you led me to the light,
You showed me how to truly love, you taught me what was right."

Blind though his eyes had been from birth,
In his world, there was real beauty,
For his Brother had given His life for him
And had died that he might live.

In my friend there was a rare and deep peace
Things of this world could never destroy.
And those who passed by would think him losing his mind
For always he smiled and was happy inside.

"See that old man, that senile old fool,
His mind wanders on his past.
Children don't look, don't look at his eyes,
He is deformed and evil, how much longer can he last?"

And on hearing their voices and hearing their scorn,
He bent his old head to pray,
While tears from his sightless, staring eyes
Rolled slowly down his face.

"Oh Lord," he prayed, "please thelp them to see
The light you give me though my eyes do not see.
They won't admit to the sin that devours their lives,
In their 'wisdom' they are even more blind than me".

Thus when the sun was hid behind the purpling hills,
And the owl hooted from the old oak tree,
He looked up to the Lord and cried out for His mercy,
Till the Lord having pity, took him home to be free.

V. Mahfood
Coffee Table Poetry for Tea Drinkers



Daily Quote: "Kindness is the language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see."
~Mark Twain

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Coffee Table Poetry's GUEST BOOK is a division of Coffee Table Poetry for Tea Drinkers, and is updated often. The easiest way to enjoy the selections from talented fellow poets is to select E-mail or RSS Reader. Also, come follow us on Twitter and Facebook.Poets and Advertisers-please contact us to post your press releases, new book info, graphics and more at: coffeetablepoet@gmail.com

Posted by V. Mahfood - 2011

By: Kathleen Mulroy

Green eyes closed, she purrs.

Content with the moment - now.

Buddha-like, at peace.




Kathleen Mulroy





------------------------------------------------
Two Seasons



Peach trees on the hill,

Their blossoms will reach full bloom

Then will blow away



Now they are changing,

Bright shades of red and yellow;

The leaves will soon fall.



Dylan Potter (15 years old)




Daily Quote:
Through humor, you can soften some of
the worst blows that life delivers.
And once you find laughter,
no matter how painful your situation might be,
you can survive it.
- Bill Cosby

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Posted by V. Mahfood - 2011

By: V. Mahfood

Pink, mottled skin so warm and soft, smooth against my face,
Bright blue eyes peering up at me, round as gleaming moons.
Tiny button nose, rosebud mouth that gamely tries to smile,
Soft, brown, feathery hair that will be grown in just a while.

One day baby takes her first steps, grinning so wide in glee!
Hands waving wildly in the air, proud as she can be.
Calling out in baby language, “Mommy look at me!”
As she walks away from me tears fall, and though I smile I cannot see.

Happy toddler years of games, playdates and Barney on TV,
Baby plays with toys and books, crawls in and out of tents.
Begins to feed and bathe herself, lays down at night to sleep,
As she says sweet prayers my tears fall, and though I smile I cannot see.

My big girl rides to school with me on her shiny, new, pink bike,
Today starts Kindergarten, and independence waves its flag.
Gives a precious kiss and waves, “Love you Mommy, wait for me!”
As she rushes off to class tears fall, and though I smile I cannot see.

My darling now plays basketball, and even soccer too,
She dresses up in cleats and jersey, long hair in a braid.
I fiercely yell and wave her on to a major victory,
As she scores her first big goal tears fall, and though I smile I cannot see.

My angel entered high school today, that big, exciting place,
The girls there dress in little shorts and t-shirts bedecked in beads.
I see a boy wave to her, without a backward glance she flees,
She laughs as she runs toward him, they kiss under the tree.
My tears softly begin to fall, and though I smile I cannot see.


V. Mahfood
Coffee Table Poetry for Tea Drinkers


Daily Quote: "Memory is the cabinet of the imagination, the treasury of reason, the registry of conscience, and the council chamber of thought."
-- Basile

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Posted by V. Mahfood - 2010

By: Kathryn Merry
 

I dreamt that I fell into a tidal sea whose mean little waves rolled brown into their white foam crest.
Dirty little waves, tumblingheadlong into a pebble rock shore.

I walk buoyantly, stubbornly, inside a swirl of water who doesn’t understand footsteps and wants to carry me away.
Wants to give its greatest gift,
wants to cast its favorite spell.
Wants to take the weight from me and let me float.

But I reject,
and dig my toes further into glass crystal sand, push my weight against an ocean army advancing in waves to take me down & under.
It is unmoved by my oxygen dependence.
It smiles at my finless form, my primitive lungs that can’t separate 2O from H.
I am a fish out of water, and the water wants to make me swim.

And in my dream, when I found ground & began to walk again- when I was still in water, but not swimming-
I felt a net of salt adorning me, I shimmered like a diamond.
And as the water lapped weaker and lower, petting my calves, ankles, toes-
I felt a silky seaweed mass that hung from my head like a train.
My hair had grown back, long & thick down my back, while I was slowly opposing the current.

In that dream way, it felt like years, but was only a day.
In that real way, it means nothing but is all of me, just the same.


Kathryn Merry

Daily Quote: Angels can fly because they can take themselves lightly.
- G. K. Chesterton

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Posted by V. Mahfood - 2011

I

My child and I hold hands on the way to school,
And when I leave him at the first-grade door
He cries a little but is brave; he does
Let go. My selfish tears remind me how
I cried before that door a life ago.
I may have had a hard time letting go.

Each fall the children must endure together
What every child also endures alone:
Learning the alphabet, the integers,
Three dozen bits and pieces of a stuff
So arbitrary, so peremptory,
That worlds invisible and visible

Bow down before it, as in Joseph's dream
The sheaves bowed down and then the stars bowed down
Before the dreaming of a little boy.
That dream got him such hatred of his brothers
As cost the greater part of life to mend,
And yet great kindness came of it in the end.

II

A school is where they grind the grain of thought,
And grind the children who must mind the thought.
It may be those two grindings are but one,
As from the alphabet come Shakespeare's Plays,
As from the integers comes Euler's Law,
As from the whole, inseperably, the lives,

The shrunken lives that have not been set free
By law or by poetic phantasy.
But may they be. My child has disappeared
Behind the schoolroom door. And should I live
To see his coming forth, a life away,
I know my hope, but do not know its form

Nor hope to know it. May the fathers
he finds
Among his teachers have a care of him
More than his father could. How that will look
I do not know, I do not need to know.
Even our tears belong to ritual.
But may great kindness come of it in the end.


Anonymous submission.

Howard Nemerov



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Coffee Table Poetry's GUEST BOOK is a division of Coffee Table Poetry for Tea Drinkers, and is updated often. The easiest way to enjoy the selections from talented fellow poets is to select E-mail or RSS Reader. Also, come follow us on Twitter. We look forward to sharing your own beautiful poetry with the world.

By: C. Richard Miles


The cherry blossom’s out to brighten city streets
And daffodils all shout that spring is here to greet
The trees, about to burst in bud and leaf and bloom,
That bring us all relief from winter’s hateful gloom.

The cherry blossom’s out and scattered in a drift
All down the busy road, a welcome petalled gift
Resembling winter snow, all soft and white and light
But not so cruel and cold, this cheerful, happy sight.

The cherry blossom’s out, so simple clean and pure
Before it starts to fall upon the road’s rough floor
But even in the crush of traffic’s trundling wheels
Its bloom brings us a blush of beauty, which appeals.

The cherry blossom’s out and floats upon the breeze
Which toys with every branch upon the cherry trees
In cheerful playfulness on this soft, spring-like day
An early splash of white before the buds of May.

C. Richard Miles
Poems of C. Richard Miles



And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.
-Anais Nin

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Coffee Table Poetry's GUEST BOOK is a division of Coffee Table Poetry for Tea Drinkers, and is updated often. The easiest way to enjoy the selections from talented fellow poets is to select E-mail or RSS Reader. Also, come follow us on Twitter. We look forward to sharing your own beautiful poetry with the world.
Posted by V. Mahfood - 2011

By: V. Mahfood

The Sea rages ceaselessly amidst unmoving rocks
Hurling Herself restlessly, longing to escape,
Hoping to embrace both the earth and the sky
Demanding life outside Her own, she begins to sigh.

And Her yards of white lace swirl around Her
On layers of rich, azure silk.
Profoundly blue, always ever changing
As eternal as the universe, now ebbing, now flowing.

Yet the music of the Sea is serenely noble
And sings tales of many brave heroes,
With ringing tones so melancholy sweet
While the sand dances at Her nimble feet.

"Be glad for each day, do not despair the past
You have many chances to repair what has been lost,
As you sing to My music and dance to My song
Come celebrate life's splendor all day long!"

V. Mahfood



"We are tied to the ocean. And when we go back to the sea, whether it is to sail or to watch - we are going back from whence we came."
-John F. Kennedy

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Coffee Table Poetry's GUEST BOOK is a division of Coffee Table Poetry for Tea Drinkers, and is updated often. The easiest way to enjoy the selections from talented fellow poets is to select E-mail or RSS Reader. Also, come follow us on Twitter. We look forward to sharing your own beautiful poetry with the world.
Posted by V. Mahfood

By: David Miao

I wake up every morning and I open my eyes
The sunlight penetrates through my camouflaging lies
For there is most definitely a hole within view
An empty void created by the loss of you

No matter what I do, no matter what I say
to deceive myself, to find a way
to heal the wounds, to ease the pain
to stop myself from going insane

I run, I write, I eat, I draw
To keep down this inner civil war
Between my heart and my brain
A form of torture which never wanes

What you meant to me I could never fully explain
The words ‘I love you’ just seem too plain
To describe this passion I feel deep inside
And now that you’re gone, a part of me has died

David Miao


Daily Quote: Only in the agony of parting do we look into the depths of love.
- George Eliot

Linguist Corner-ITALIAN: uscire: to go out /verb.
Example sentence: Esco a fare una passeggiata, vuoi venire con me?
Translation: I'm going out for a walk, do you want to come with me?

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Posted by V. Mahfood - 2011

By: V. Mahfood

When that ancient, battered plane takes off, I will be on it...
Beside me are my treasured bags of trinkets and memories,
Odd assortment from an ill-timed journey ended too soon.
Never wanting to leave, bittersweet time still away has flit.

For all the years I lived in a sea of happy dreams
You would think I had more souvenirs and treasures!
Boxes of sweet words, jeweled bags of love secrets,
Yards of lace with stories woven snug in all the seams.

Yet I carry dried roses whose thorns prick me with anguish,
They rest on silken cushions that once smooth are now torn.
My things are thrown together, hurts mixed among happiness,
Jumbled need and disappointment, tossed about as in a storm.

I no longer have need for glittr'ing dreams and hopes,
For a future among warm and silvered sands.
All I have left are these tattered, old suitcases,
For better or for worse, I must learn to cope.

When that sad and battered plane takes off, I will be on it...
I can no more return to my loved resting place to sit.


V. Mahfood
Coffee Table Poetry for Tea Drinkers


Daily Quote: Where you used to be, there is a hole in the world, which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime, and falling in at night.
~Edna St. Vincent Millay

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Posted by V. Mahfood - 2011