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Poems By Poet Peter S. Quinn  7/25/2014 10:57:02 AM
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  Best Poems From
  PETER S. QUINN
 
 
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  1997.     

Illusions of Me

Closed eyes are longing for something,
That isn't here with us yet, or anymore;
To its inner self and its soul itll sing,
Of what it aspires for its own deplore...

But knowing it still, this is of the unknown,
Unborn perhaps, though not uncertain;
A thought for a moment yet not fully shown,
The distances of any dream behind a curtain.

Aims like these are close in their stance,
Like the past is sometimes: a moment still here;
Like it is advancing for its second chance,
It didn't have in the past tense year.

Knowing what they are, I dare not defy:
A thought for the moment I forgot not yet;
But as for all inner grasps - how uncertain am I,
Perhaps it's only an illusion that got backset?
 
Peter S. Quinn
   
 

   
   
 

  1998.     

Ilmur/Fragrance

g hef vaka
g hef sofi
og fundi ilm af herbegi mnu
a er ilmur af vii

eins og vori sem g ri
eins og skarilmur
eru bl mn
og ntur

draumar koma og draumar fara
dvelst g ar um stund
en fram ilmar vori
bkunum mnum

***

I have been awake
and I have slept
and found fragrance of my room
its a fragrance of wood

like the spring that I long for
like fragrance of forest
are my papers
and sheet music

dreams come and dreams go
I dwell there for awhile
but onward the spring scents
in my books
 
Peter S. Quinn
   
 

   
   
 

  1999.     

I'm a Flower

I'm a flower like a flower
Always singing to my heart
Thoughts of wandering hour
That through life won't depart
Shining, shining so much on
In the goings there about
Shades of feeling never gone
With season bewailing doubt
Love is the altitude of me
With so much for every more
Coming into its own reality
In growing beauties to adore
Meanings pending to my senses
Making fields alive around
As the blooming colors dances
Nowhere else to be here found
Fragrance of my dreams like corn
When winters heart will spin
Never petals of fade and worn
Only love arising from within
 
Peter S. Quinn
   
 

   
   
 

  2000.     

I'm a Martyr of the Keyboard

I type all day long
Into the request deep
Sometimes itll ping-pong
Right into my sleep
I'm a martyr of the keyboard
Going down deep under
To the alphabet lord
God of the ticktick thunder!

I'll type for a request
Just to please and be ready
I'll try to do my best
If my fingers go on steady
This and that comes out
I have no complete control
Automation knows its ways about
Around key-mole
And keyhole

I type all day to spark
And give it a steady beat
But sometimes itll all lack
Except its little tweet
This maybe a dark poetry read
With not much in deeper meaning
But to somewhere it will lead
In a steady and closer
Screening
 
Peter S. Quinn
   
 
 
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Poems By Poet Peter S. Quinn