is looking for poems with strong imagery, emotion, and with interesting use of language. We nominate for most major prizes, anthologies and awards.

NEWS: Please share this website as much as possible.
  • NOBLE POETRY  

  • LONGING

     

    Without exception, we cheered together, in chorus: “We finally graduated! There is no more who can torment us! After open humiliations, our favorite teachers could hardly have found a target "- As our festive colored balloons flew, our restless hearts with homesickness would have drawn abroad in the commissive voice of longing.

    ,,Buddy! Come with us to England, or wherever you want! ”They called with encouragement, promising that it would still be much better outside than locked in an uncertain, unknown vision inside. My unstoppable soul would have preferred to soar with them, but my sober food suggested something else: "You have a different task!" And although Ferihegy was close by, a winged machine monster took me away from all my purposeful, planned dreams. How simple everything seemed then!

    ,,My sweet boy! You get a low-cost ticket from me and then God from me to you! ”Said my good father as he was more terrified of the invisible uncertain, like me and while we pressed each other's hands after the symbolic festive lunch, the little little bell of my heart rang in my ear, "Get out of here, get out of here! Realize yourself!" Above cloud continents, the sun always shines cheerfully! Maybe if all went well I could have even had a job where I share my own self-time and it is not necessary for me to swallow my slave hairdresser's swearing-swearing in seconds, that the Company’s strategy requires a profit-oriented Profit, or an alamus gain while giving us hunger-climbing gas!

    Cambridge, the Oxford Library, would always have welcomed him as an old dear friend; opening a wide, ancient oak gate, and while I could have researched poetry, either as a research monk or as Galeotto Marzioka, among dusty codes and manuscripts, the renewing revolutionary theme of classical philology would sooner or later have been patronized by more humane Professors. Is there still a printing press in the hidden catacomb cellar of the famous medieval university, where roaring, murmuring Guttenberg machines produced reprints of track and scholarship literary masterpieces?! Maybe I'll never know again! A lovely English, classy Lady in a feathered hat, stretching her snow-white gloves, shook hands with me before I gave a hand kiss etiquette, she was already pounding! In his radiant deer eye, I could feel how much a desire for love was in us on a wavelength, just like immortality after romance!

    Twenty-one years of this, and if more and more people ask, because I can already hear their accountable, squeaky voices and derogatory judgments, because there is no secret in this: Maybe I never sold or gave up my dreams, my long-term plans, but Fate almost always forced me back or just intervened. And while family members were saying, friends with their well-practiced, boredom-drunk text, I tried to create something with both hands! And while my cumbersome, adamant decades of my former friends came and went - I feel inside - as if they had given up on me a little deliberately, forgetting the ordeals of the events they experienced together.

      0