May 6, 2008

  • ElectricPoetry Post: New transcriptions from 1978

    poetrydatestamp78

    The Cathy Poems: New Transcriptions from 1978

    All these poems were written in October through December 1978 for Cathy, and are part of the few poems which have not yet been transcribed to the 1978 section on the ElectricPoetry website, so this is the first time they have been presented online. I fell in love with Cathy at the age of 25, and I wrote her 60 poems in order to win her heart, which didn’t happen. These are among the last of the poems I wrote for her.

     

    “Secrets”
    Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
    Sept. 26, 1978 7:00 p.m. pdt

    There’s a kind of a person I’d like to know
    The kind with whom you share secrets
    The kind you know you can trust
    And the kind who respects
    Your privacy.
    I’ve looked for 25 years
    And no one have I found
    With whom I can share my secrets
    So I don’t know how it’s done
    And I share my secrets
    With everyone

    I think I’ve found a kind of person
    The kind with whom you share secrets
    The kind you know you can trust
    And the kind who believes
    in you
    I’ve been looking a long long time
    And if it’s true that it is you
    Then you can trust me with your secrets
    And I can learn how it is done
    With just you I’ll share my secrets
    Not ever
    anymore
    anyone.

     

    “Untitled XII”
    Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
    October, 1978 7:00a.m. pst

    I guess I was wrong
    and I should stop fighting
    We were never meant to be

    But I’ll tape my heart
    And brave the world
    Tho’ emotion pours a sea

    I still feel a love
    So deep and so close
    Though you can’t try anymore

    I knew long ago
    I would lose the game
    I’m afraid to look at the score

    You can turn me off
    And say good bye
    And turn the other way

    But hope holds on
    And it cries for you
    Cause it’ll always be that way

    Everyone knows
    What I feel for you
    And why I’ll cry new tears

    And I hope you gained
    A little something at least
    To last you through the years

    The poems won’t stop
    You can’t help but inspire
    You always did that to me

    But I guess I was wrong
    As you pointed out
    Quite emphatically

    I always said
    I only wanted
    What was best for you, my dear

    And I’ll heed your advice
    Not try to love you so hard
    But it’ll be a long road, I fear

     

    “Thanksgiving Thoughts”
    Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
    Thanksgiving, Nov. 23, 1978 12noon pst

    What is wrong? he asks again
    As if the ball is always fumbled, and nobody can win
    Who controls the situation?
    Is there someone who monitors infatuation
    Why can’t I “thank you for you” once more
    I care, I’m just too moody; I can’t cope
    I cleaned the apartment. Who was that for?
    Next I might give up the dope.

    You smiled and you said, “everything’s all right.”
    I broke down and said “force me to hate you.”
    “Give me an answer. Show me something to fight”
    And I try and I try to berate you.

    I just can’t be patient, I guess, my dear
    I don’t want to scare you away
    Calm my shaking hand, erase all my fear
    Cast off my sense of decay

    I try to much to understand
    Why you make every move that you make
    I’m ashamed that I feel bad
     when you take my hand
    Cause I’m feeling the future’s at stake

    What is wrong? he asks again
    I always make too much of a din
    I scream and I cry. I’m a selfish fool
    And I know I want to break every rule
    But I’ll wait – I’m your puppet
     you hold the strings
    I will try only to savor what little you bring.


    “Mended Still Screaming”
    Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
    Dec. 20, 1978 7:00p.m. pst

    The arms enfold the essence of emotion and squeeze
     yet nothing holds the pain nor yearning
    The arms cross defeated above the breast
    Heart beating faster in a skipping time
    You’ve said many things and you wonder
    What words would win – which phrases were perfect
    On what wasted paragraphs did you spend so much time
    The eyes close and tighten
    Her face looked like – on that night – when
    When –
    Exploratory groping eyes to the head
    When – “those darting eyes” – remember

    The words disappeared in the slush
    After last night’s rain cleared the air
    Remembrances are holy – and wholly false
    I can never say “I know what you are feeling.”
    You never know people no matter what you think.

    The wrist turns out another torrent of
    ink-stained papers – poetry – “heart-imaginings”
    The broken heart is mended still screaming
    “I love her, I love her – It’s so strong.”
    You wait with your hand – the same one
    which wrote the poetry – poised
     over the telephone receiver
     Do I dare call -
      just to know
       what she is thinking
    No- heartaches can come on her time
    She always feels so good giving them anyway.

    The mind remembers all it wanted to say
    But the words won’t come out the same
    Tears take too long in coming – and were they
     really for her or for you?
    Did you cry yourself to sleep last night?

    No one knows how I feel
    Not even her
    And I wish I knew how to explain it
    I wish I could explain her actions
    Her feelings – I wish

    Remember when it meant something?
    Remember when she became afraid
    And locked you out of her life forever

    You’d be mad at anyone else
    (Even your friends chide you)
    The broken heart is mended still screaming
    “I love her, I love her – It’s so strong.”


    “A Portrait”
    Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
    12-20-78 7:15p.m. pst

    Dear Cathy, I may not be the only one
     enraptured by your charms
    Sweet one, there might be hundreds hurt
     with your innocent harm
    I hear you sighing, pray to God, why
     are you like you are
    But no one answer, and solutions
     seem so very far

    Emerging unscathed, never -
    Every little wound inflicts great pain
    You continually ask why people have to get hurt –
    You know you are lucky – but you are not
    As long as you hold others dear
    - Real life taught you nothing
    Save that everybody is out to stab each other
    in the back –
    And you try to change this to no avail -
    When you give advice everyone smirks
    And you know you’re right –
    But nobody cares to listen.
    So why talk at all?

    You were blessed with a beautiful personality –
    And it’s a shame life has taught you
    To inject it with venom sometimes –
    But most of the time –
    You wish you could relax
    Take some time out from the schedule
    And sit back.

    Nobody lets you – You barely have time to
     be alone –
    You think about it – you never have time to
     be alone -
    Chores – errands – friendships – commitments

    And you feel like life is fleeing -
    Leaving you with the schedule.

    You thought love might rescue you from
     this dilemma -
    But love is nonexistant -  Every guy
    is the same – there is no such thing
    as the “special moment”

    So you take it slow – and immerse yourself in
     routine
    And savor every new person’s smile…
    Maybe one of these days it will be different.


    “Talk to Me”
    Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
    12-20-78 7:40p.m. pst

    Hello?
    I’m an insignificant part of humanity…but I count.
    I’m very special to someone…but I haven’t found her
    I know I can be an asshole at times
    But humanness does not preclude negative traits
    I look at a butterfly and I thank God for me
    Nothing is ever really bad
    I can live through anything
    I’ve gone through many dreams and many nightmares
    I’ve lived false hopes and fractured heartache
    And what I’ve gone through
     is not new
    A lot of people survive the good, the tragedy
     just like me and you
    Hello?
    I like myself, I guess, what I’ve done
     what I have yet to do
    And I try to touch a lot of people.
    I make attempts to iron out my problems-
    Although sometimes I think people expect
    me to change because they themselves can’t.
    I know I have many stories to tell-
    In hopes they might help someone else-
    And still – sometimes – I’m not sure
    why everything happened like it did.
     But
    I won’t feel sorry for myself
    I’m a human being
    Endowed with all the postive and negative
     aspects.
    I’ve loved you for what seems like
     an awfully long time-
    And though I inwardly question your actions
    and motives a lot – I can’t hate you
    I’ll never hate you -
    No matter what hurt I may feel
    You always elicit a smile from me.
    I know I’m not as perfect as you -
    I can never hope to be, I guess,
    But I keep trying to live up to
    Your ideal image.

    One thing bothers me
    I’ll tell you anything you want to know
    And half of what you don’t
    But all you have to say is smalltalk

    Can’t you  -
    Talk to me?


    BEHIND THE POETRY: I’ve heard that at age 25, some folks have a “quarter life crisis.” I went through a crisis at the age of 25, because I was hopelessly in love with a gal who didn’t love me in return, but did string me on a bit. She had a “boyfriend” and ultimately chose her life with him over a life with me. I haven’t been truly in love for many years, but I can remember my deep love of Cathy when rereading these poems. Unlike when writng poetry now, which I know will be read by people online here on the blog and on my ElectricPoetry website, when wrting poetry back in 1978, I didn’t really intend them to be read by anyone, excepting perhaps their subject. At the end of my “relationship” with Cathy, I transcribed all the poems I had written for her in a little book and gave them to her at our last parting. MFN/ppf

Comments (26)

  • Reading some of these I just thought “OUCH” Yes… love hurts sometimes doesn’t it M.

    It was so sweet of you to make a book out of these and give them to her, I betthere was at least one time in her life that she looked through them and held them with regret.

    Have a great day!

  • my goodness, you were an angst ridden little fellow!  nice to look back and see how well things smoothed out, ain’t it?

  • I like the first poem the best. Unrequited love is so hard to go through!

  • Are you familiar with Pink Floyd’s “Keep Talking”? It’s so haunting and sad. The last poem here reminded me of that song.

  • I can’t believe Cathy wasn’t swayed by your wonderful poetry.  I think I’ve read another poem of yours that referenced a “Catherine.”  I remember it being very powerful.  Anyway–what a silly girl she must have been.  Her loss, Darling Michael.

    RYC: Sweetheart, Sin is meaningful at any age.  (And, in any language, for that matter!!!)

  • I love all the poems but Talk To Me is my favorite. Unrequited love…. yeah, I’ve been through that. Long story.

  • Hey…. new profile pic! Groovy, man!

  • I suppose you know but I’ll say it anyway, this is my kind of poetry. I felt each one and, thank-you, I didn’t feel like such an alien any more. I don’t know why it is, but it seems the ones with the least feelings have the greatest opportunities to explore them. The aphorism is false….nobody loves a lover.. except those who aren’t expected to.

  • I would say I had/have a quarter life crisis, but it appears that my life has been just one ongoing existential crisis lol… It’s really sweet that you cared for that lady enough to do all that writing. It’s a shame she didn’t feel the same about you.

  • User has whispered to baldmike2004 …

  • She missed out on a great deal. 

  • Maybe if you had written sixty-ONE poems she would have fallen for you…

    *sigh* I had one of those “relationships” too. They suck. And are hard to get over.

  • WOW you wrote her SIXTY POEMS? There’s a billion men who couldn’t even write ONE poem for a lady…

  • I must admit I did not read all of this for I cannot stay long at the computer. I just wanted you to know that I do read your stuff partway and that I have not forgotten you! Bless you, dear friend!

  • The first 2 poems I felt as if you were writing them about my life it seems that we have much in common for our mid to late 20 years of age… I am going to come back because with your depth of writing I can never read them all at once its just to much for my fragile mind to digest… Lovely work though Mike I can really truly feel what you went through there the heartache pours out…

  • great things – not in vain

    thank you

  • I was Junior in HS when you wrote these and they do take me back to that era.  I always enjoy your work

  • I read them all. I like the last one best. All of them have the angst of unrequited love, but that last one, to me, seems to (try to) step back. I like the repeated hello and the ending.

  • I know what you mean I dedicated an entire notebook of about 75 pages worth of poetry for one girl… I gave it to her but went and retrieved it later when I realized that she didnt care much about me or my poems… As far as that 1/4 life crisis I can totally say that one is true for me I have grown leaps and bounds over the last year and a half of my life… Thankyou for all of these thanks for sharing them I know how hard it is to give out little niblets of your heart in poetic format for utter strangers to critique… These last few were like short conversations very cool style there I loved that… Be well Mike until next time friend…

  • ryc:: lol, no. Scooby Snacks (at least in my house) are either fruit snacks with the Scooby Doo characters, or graham crackers shaped like bones that say *Scooby* on them. My kids are big into Scooby Doo at the moment, so they get a kick out of eating *scooby snacks.*

  • Cathy missed out.  A guy who can communicate like you can is hard to come by.  Your poetry is a clear spring of emotion that makes manifest the human condition.  (your videos aren’t bad either!) — Lisa

  • I can so relate. I wouldn’t say I’m in love with him, but I like a guy a great deal and I don’t think he likes me back that well.

    You communicated your thoughts when better than I can ever manage.

  • These are some well written poems Mike and a lot of thought have gone into them.

     

  • Mike

    It has been forever and I am so sorry.  As always your poems touch me deeply.  I hope that you are happy and well these days.  Time seems to pass so fast for me and I seldom have found time for Xanga these days.  I keep meaning to get back to it.  I have been working on the art and have work in several books that are coming out soon.  If you don’t mind I will share them with you through your email.  My contract won’t permit me to post them all here on my site.  I miss the people I met here on Xanga at times. Especially you.  I am going to go and check out some of your blogs from the past few months.  Feel free to email me at my regular email at any time.  betrayed1959@yahoo.com.    Hugs my friend.  I do hope that life has been good to you lately.

    Kat

  • Talk to me is wonderful, HI Micheal I have not been very active for awhile but wanted to say hi. I hope you are doing well my friend.

  • Great stuff here, thanks for sharing.

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