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Tales From A Poet

by Ken Michaels

55 pages; quality trade paperback (softcover); catalogue #02-0487; ISBN 1-55369-674-3; US$12.00, C$15.55, EUR10.20, £7.10

A collection of romantic poetry that is intended to convey the emotions that love inspires through descriptive metaphorical poems. Particularly noteworthy are the epic love poems such as "A Journey" and "A Poet's Night"

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about the book      about the author      sample excerpts or Table of Contents      catalogue info

About the Book I believe that true inspiration for art comes once in a great while, often when we least expect it. So it is true for most of the poems contained in this book. Most of the poems here in this volume tell descriptive stories, such that I call them mini-epic poems. They have a beginning and a promising end. 'Goddess of Fire and Ice' and 'Death of a Poet' are examples, not to mention my two favorites. 'A Journey' is the very first one presented in this book. It is a great mini-epic poem with many poetic metaphors and gives the reader a visual description of how difficult the voyage on the Sea of True Love actually is. My favorite poem, however, is the poem entitled, 'One More Day', mostly because I wrote this poem in anticipation of a wonderful day with someone special. It is short. It is descriptive. And every word jumps off the page in excitement to the promise of a beautiful tomorrow. All of the poems are romantic, though, and I hope they elicit the same feelings from you, the reader, than they did for me when I wrote them. - Ken Michaels

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About the Author Ken Michaels is a writer of short stories of horror and the supernatural. Two of his notable short stories are The Goodnight Kiss and The Dare. Tales from a Poet is his first venture into published poetry. When he isn't writing, he is a project manager with BellSouth Communications Systems. He presently lives in Florida.

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Sample Excerpts or Table of Contents

A Journey

White sails on her masts, they flap in the breeze
That swirls on the pier and the docks by the sea.
The deckhands they grunt as they push with a shove.
Thus begins the long journey on the Sea of True Love.

Cargo of emeralds and silver and gold
Are set aside neatly and laid in her hold,
To give to a merchant, as of yet unknown.
Nevertheless worthy where he waits all alone.

The ship, in its splendor, makes all others look dull.
From the copper crow*s nest to her teak-cedar hull.
The bow*s figurehead, a bare-chested lass.
The windows astern are of fine polished glass.

The bulkheads,caulked to prevent them from leaking.
Yet, with the sway of the waves they emit pleasant creaking.
Built with such skill, adorned with such grace.
The proud ship leaves the harbor of this tropical place.

Her captain and crew awash with their pride.
Sing dirges and ballads as they lean o'er her side.
The mothers and children get their last good-byes in
As the ship disappears silently, slowly past the horizon.

The ship,in its confidence, skims 'long the ocean
It bobs and it leans in time with the motion.
The salty sea spray climbs up over the rails
And on to the decks in wet, crusty trails.

A storm gathers high in the sky up ahead.
And the captain, awaits its fury with dread.
For she knows that this sea can be such a cruel place.
Where many ships before her disappeared without trace.

The swells of the ocean rise to the sky.
As if moist flapping arms are daring to fly.
The sea,in its ferocity, now churning and foaming
Water spills on her deck and over the coaming.

Thunder and lightning crash in the gloom.
The crew prays for God 's pity in the face of this doom.
But the captain is sure of the boat and its true fate.
It must pass this storm to where the merchant awaits.

Stubborn, defiant in the face of this gale.
The captain yells orders to the crew without fail.
And the ship,it rides the storm and its fury.
While the gallant crew beseeches that it ends in a hurry.

The masts become damaged, the sails become torn.
The crew fears their death as their hands become worn.
But they work while the storm just seems never-ending
Because the journey,they feel, is so worth defending.

The vessel remains strong and purposeful now.
As the waves threaten to drag her down by the bow.
And as quick as it came, the storm releases its grip
To bring calm and contentment to the crew and the ship

A break in the clouds brings a shimmering light.
And the captain, she now sees distant shores are in sight.
The winds blowing softer, the water becomes calm
As the Sea of True Love carries her in its palm.

Injured, yet relieved, the boat glides up to the pier
While the people on shore, they yell and they cheer.
The ship is majestic in its battered complexion
But the townspeople can't help to admire with affection.

They know so few had been worthy to make such a jaunt
For the waves and the weather would tease and taunt.
Eventually sinking most others,though brave,
They'd split apart easily and slip 'neath the waves.

The merchant arrives and greets the captain with pleasure.
And he boards the proud boat to inspect all her treasure.
Satisfied and pleased, he admires the ship's coffer
And the valuable stores and all it has to offer.

Instead of removing the treasure from her hold.
He unfolds a plan that is daring and bold.
Keep your fine valuables, he says with a grin.
We'll use it to repair the ship it lies in.

The sails and masts are eventually repaired.
While the crew regaled visitors of how they were spared.
The captain, she lived with the merchant each day.
And felt he had earned her with his unselfish ways.

And the ship remains there, all beautiful and proud.
Each day surrounded by admiring crowds.
Mounted on the main mast is now a shiny, bronze plaque.
That tells of the ship and its journey years back.

It reads, "The ship that you stand on, respect it with pride.
It couldn't be sunk no matter how the storm tried.
The waves down below and the storm up above.
Couldn't sink this ship in the Sea of True Love."

One More Day

Dear black midnight, with your starry strength
push forward the slow tomorrow.
The careless night in lazy tread
mocks my painful sorrow.

Dear blue sphere, don't hesitate
to make just one more rotation.
And swiftly bring the future
That contains my inspiration.

Dear ticking clock, methodical and true
Cycle forth the minutes without recess.
Push the hours rapidly 'round your face
Bring about my joy and happiness.

Dear breaking dawn, don't sleep any more
Trumpet the world awake.
Stomp your orange feet on the ground.
And make the buildings shake.

Dear loving Creator, in celestial wisdom
Make me the night's new master.
So I control its velocity
And make tomorrow arrive here faster.

If I hadn't Written Poems

If I hadn't written poems would I be the same to you.
The man who says the perfect words that hit their mark so true.
The feeling and emotions put in prose and printed blue.
Those before familiar lines and circles that now seem to you so new.

If I hadn't kissed your lips,would my heart still feel the ache?
The thought of not being near your skin is more than I can take.
The joyful hope of seeing you falls to the ground and breaks.
My pumping chest heaves in despair to rid a sorrow it can 't shake.

If I hadn't held your hand, would my surging nerves abstain,
From feeling all you have to offer,the joy,the love,this pain?
Like standing on the tracks,I raise my hand to stop the train.
Useless to forge the strength to stop the tears that start to rain.

If I hadn't written poems, would it mark the end as friends?
A kindred spirit to help me with life 's twists and turns and bends.
The risk you're no longer here to help my feelings make amends.
My advances spurned, unrequited feelings, my words only offend.

If I hadn't looked into your eyes,to search your gaze for feeling?
Would I feel the love I silently bear that has sent my life in reeling?
Would the beauty that I've begun to see remain to me appealing?
But here I sit, writing verse, and staring at the ceiling.

If I hadn't written poems, I realize, I'd be fooling you -and me.
That it seems to be the only way my mind and heart agree.
Wound's so deep when I can 't see you,but my hands leave a legacy.
To pen the words I mean so much,(what a fool I must seem to be).

Those words, so strong, a part of me like I've never written before.
Overwhelming raw emotion for the one that I adore.
Like the tide arising, so strong and angry as it beats upon the shore.
My thoughts conveyed in words just too impossible to ignore.

And truer words,for you my love, I'm sure were never said.
As my surging veins unceasingly pulse blood so warm and red.
While my nerves and heart seemed before so lifeless and so dead.
They can't prevent the pouring out of the thoughts within my head.

If I hadn't written poems, would you want me in that same way?
Would my humor and my charm prevent the feelings when we lay?
Would promises have their impact without this verbal bouquet?
I know they would, but you may doubt, so on this page they'll stay.

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Catalogue Information

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