September 6, 2006
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“Table For One”
Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
Sunday, February 20, 2000 4:25 p.m. pst
I ate lunch in one of my favorite restaurants
I had an uplifting engrossing and satisfying meal
I drank some coffee, and had a Bellini Classico
Which is a wonderful drink containing rum , peach shnappes, and champagne
The meal was served with Ceasar salad, and the parmesan cheese was fresh
The Penne Rustica is a house specialty
It fills me with a warm and wonderful aura
The lights were dim
The ambiance special
Soft music played in the background
The waiters were prompt, the coffee was filled regularly
I was hungry when I went in
But even though the meal filled me as the afternoon passed
And even though I felt sate and my stomach grew fuller
There was still an emptiness
A feeling of empiness
I look around at the couples enjoying their afternoon
Whispering and laughing, fulfilling their dreams
I look across the table at an empty chair
I leave the restaurant with the emptiness still there
I want so much for this emptiness to be done
I am so tired of having to ask for a table for one
I want to be with you
And tell the maitre’d to set up a table for two
“Belonging”
Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
February the 21st, 2000 in the first year of the second Millennium
As I retire alone, I feel that I belong
As I sleep in nature’s peace, I have a feeling strong
And with a joy like this I know I can’t be wrong
I shout with renewed joy, and raise my voice in song
The pains are past, I know at last,
A peace I’ve known for years
But never felt
And never saw
Through veils of doubt and tears
My beauty lies
In crimson sheets
Her bower a wonder to behold
And the joy I share
Is tendered there
And returned a thousandfold
You give me love
You give me hope
You give me peace and serenity
If it all works out
I will have no doubt
That all will be in harmony.
I know there’s a place
And a state of mind supreme
A garden with a fountain
Shedding tears and founts of steam
Bubbling with heated passion
Showering ecstasy, love and memories
A place with trees and flowers
And grassy knolls with elves
A playing with the faeries
And the love among ourselves
This is the garden of Allah
Eden and love and friendship
Forever
We will romp there until I awaken
And the strains of the music cease never.
“The First Day of Spring”
Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
March 20, 2000 7:58 p.m. mst
The search is finally over and the bloom is back on the rose
My tears have fallen ceaselessly and true love has shown me her face at last
I cannot find the proper words to express the feelings rampant in my wounded heart
As it heals with an ointment applied only with the most expert of care
The time it took to find the springtime seems to have taken forever
I lay my red and rusty eyes upon the face of love, and beauty means more now
Than ever wast in all lives past, save that when we, my love and I, existed in memory’s bower
Alone together without questioning, but that was long ago,
And now with birds achirping outside her window,
I go to a place of perpetual springtime,
Where winter trees lose the frost
And the hope of summer’s promise is brought by her sweet smile.
All spring days past are but a blur,
With resounding music heard only by me
Yet now Spring’s excellent music can finally be heard by all.
Because my queen bestows upon me now that pure rare flower of her being,
And fresh tears fall like subtle rain upon the barren fields of memory,
The lost forgotten pains of love’s yearning are about to fade forever from feeling
The hole is wholly filled and beauty, truth, and passion cry a clarion call for me.
Words are simply not enough to puncture the happiness and elemental belonging that I feel.
Words can only hint at the purity with which my muse empowers me.
I knew her, yes, but we have never coupled till now,
As Spring bursts forth in a fever of growing, garroulous goodness,
And as the words fall like rain from my lips,
Praising and pursuing the pulchritudinous visage which has been shown me,
I will stop, rest upon the path of perfection,
And blow a kiss to my Queen.
SPRING forth and let me love, as never have I loved
Life has never been filled with as much beauty as now I behold in her presence.
“Journey to Shiloh”
Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
Monday, April 16, 2001 4:30 a.m.
Many times I have split my yearnings for companionship into the reality and the fantasy,
And have fooled myself that I will settle for the reality, while secretly embracing the fantasy the more so.
I have tried so many experiments and experienced so many heartbreaks.
I know that kismet still exists while serving just to create my heartaches.
I dream the weekend long that my goddess exists in tangible space
She”ll satisfy my soul and make my heart gallop at a faster pace.
The reality happens on weekdays, and she stays in my head and my heart
And the fantasy bursts Friday night open, but true existence does not seem her part.
Countless poems have screamed with no meanings at her unknown name and her nonexistant presence
And the fantasy life I have led has sometimes gotten the better of my good senses
The experimentation has to cease at some point I would surmise.
Because age keeps on marching from sunset to sunrise
The journeys I have made searching for the fantasy have yeilded naught.
Until Good Friday the Thirteenth, and I may have found what I have sought.
Many times a false connection, we pay for our mistakes.
But we have to try all the ways of piecing the puzzle together to know what it takes.
My Journey to Shiloh began with a destination familiar yet unknown
A new opportunity for the fantasy to begin afresh, filling me with passion and stoking the fires of my soul.
My dancer in the mist appeared at last, but was she real, or was she only an illusion?
One glance from her eyes told me I should bear no confusion.
While I know I have always reserved my heart for a soulmate and a bond for eternity
She who bares her openness for all has a place in my newfound serenity.
I asked her to call me, to open my door, and live in my humanity for a moment
Time will tell if this fantasy will become reality, if this meeting was a portent.
The Journey to Shiloh began with a dream, and whatever part of that dream becomes true, I will gasp
With knowledge that universal connections are made in the strangest of places,
That reality and fantasy can and will live in the same world with me, and survive
And perhaps I, too, can reach and and touch her, and somehow enrich her life.
For now, at my desk, the fantasy is in my head and in my journey, inspiring me
As no other experiment ever has intruded into the day to day existence this much
The next connection should be made by Serendipity herself as such
The perfect body holds a mind, with whom I would love to be able to listen
A universal mind, and mine with yours, commencing the ultimate conversation.
The Journey to Shiloh ended at the intended destination.
I can’t stop thinking about her, her smile, her eyes, and her long flowing hair
I want to make the Journey to Shiloh again, to languish in her presence fair.
I am always talking about chance. I took one on Good Friday the Thirteenth
And perhaps my life will be enhanced.
BEHIND THE POETRY: This selection of poems is from the early aughts. “Table for One” and “Belonging” were written while I was on my second internet lovesearch, and had been corresponding with Regina in Albequerque. I hadn’t met her personally yet. “The First Day of Spring” was written while I was visiting her in New Mexico. Our relationship didn’t last. We had parted ways by the end of that summer. “Journey to Shiloh” was written a year later, and my thoughts of actual relationships had soured a bit by then, after two failed lovesearches. The object of “Shiloh”, incidentally, was an exotic dancer at a gentleman’s club I used to attend. “Shiloh” was her “dancer’s” name. MFN
Comments (13)
Did you guys go to Macaroni Grill. That is exactly what I order when I go there.
Thanks for the kind words Mike. You will be glad to know that I went and visited other Internet Islander’s tonight.
Hugs, Tricia :wave:
Wow Michael – this post is rather sad:cry:
Hi Mike, I hope your doing ok…F:sunny:
My friend, Michael,
Such wonderfully written words! :sunny: Thank you for sharing your journey with us – it is a blessing to experience. :coolman:
Grace & peace be with you,
Steve
The first poem is me, right now!
your poetry is great, do you have it published anywhere because it’s really good.
Thank you for the lovely comment and I am touched to have so many lovely freinds that comment me daily, I am truly blessed
Heres the post for Internet Island. Peace.
Thursday, September 07, 2006
I thought the first poem was sad, but nicely descriptive. I like how it can describe the actual situation you’re describing or it can also somewhat allude to the theme of “Can all the money in the world make a man happy without someone to love?”
I also like this line:
“The experimentation has to cease at some point I would surmise.
Because age keeps on marching from sunset to sunrise”
It’s a good statement towards all aspects of life, really…if you really think about how anything we do is really just an experimentation to sort of find the meaning of life…it all must end eventually because we all get older and eventually die.
Thanks for sharing.
I really like the first poem. The last to lines are very powerful
I loved table for one. It really spoke to me. RYC. You are right it is Lulu. I knew it was some weird name like Kiki or something from Englad. LOL. Thanks for the comment. I love reading your blog. For awhile, Xanga would bump me off the internet when I tried to visit your site. But it appears that has been corrected for now. I missed not reading your posts. Have a wonderful day.
Great read Mike, Judi
Love “Table for One.” Awesome. Thanks.
Mike……..thank you for your poetry. I am in between classes at school and tonight is parent / teachers night so I have to do some last minute touches in my room. I loved Table for One and Belonging.
Here is something I wrote when my wife died that is on my site that reminds me of your poems.
On the Loss of My Bride
O beautiful beloved – resting in the Splendor of the Son.
Where you are I can follow.
Where you are all may go.
Hearer of the angels who sing – remember me to Our Mother and the saints.
Hear that heavenly music for both of us; no song or key can escape you now.
My beloved bride – we’ll see and hear the hymns together, for there is no blindness in heaven, there is no deafness in Paradise.
He who shatters the glass of your earthly frame does so that you can see the brightest Light.
Tell me, my love, who is this Grand Luminance that you now truly know?
Your shape now empty of your once so loving spirit, empty of pain and loneliness of a life so shortly lived.
Onward and upward you do soar into the arms of your Maker. The warmth of you begins to leave my touch.
A momentary pause comes to me as if to see you for the first time and then to remember, that I was truly loved.