Jim Milks (2/7/1966 / Boston)
Biography of Jim Milks
I was born and still reside in Massachusetts; In fact, I live less then a mile from where I grew up. I am an engineer by trade. First, let me say that I am not a poet. Much as Julia Child said 'I am not a chef, I am just a person that likes to cook.' I am not a poet, I am just someone that likes to write poetry (as it were) . Some of the poems are really good (at least I think so) and some are not as good. Some are short while others are long.
It is my believe that poetry should come from the soul, not from the head I tried to write what I was feeling at the time. Sometimes I felt silly and other times morose and that is reflected in the poems.
I hope that you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed writing them.
I have thought long and hard about writing an explanation of each poem and sometimes I did though not often. The reason is that to me a poem should stand on its own merit. If I explain to you what I was thinking and what I was feeling then the point of reading the poem and discovering that for yourself is lost. Just because I am the person that wrote the poem does not mean that mine is the only opinion, or the only valid opinion. If at anytime you read something and the meaning is lost (sometimes I am to sneaky and clever and nobody gets what I meant) . Please feel free to contact me and I will do my best to fill you in.
- …Goodnight Boston, I love you..
- 1984 reprise
- A Bee
- A Christmas Present for Mom
- A Flower Grows
- A hike in the woods
- A Kiss upon your Cheek
- A lovers touch
- A Million years to Sunday
- A Secret: A limerick
- A short Ode to Edgar Allen Poe
- A short Poem in the Greek Style
- A shot of Whiskey
My Bald Head
I can show it, I can hide it the choices abound
it is my head, my own little crown.
It shines in the sun and glows in the night
I could even paint it, oh what a fright.
My baldhead shows age, wisdom and might.
A lifetime of living written above
my bald head is mine to have and to love.