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.
Jim Milks Poems
Happy Birthday Dad
Happy Birthday to my Dad There is no ice cream, no cake, no presents to be had just a silent birthday wish for my Dad Happy Birthday to my Father
Spring: Haiku Life awakening Flower opens in the sun A world is reborn
What is a Grandfather?
What is a Grandfather? A Friend, a confidant, and a mentor That is what a Grandfather is.
Childhood is calling
Come on people move For childhood is calling time to get up and groove there is no time for stalling
Wedding: a Haiku
Two fluttering hearts Sunlight gleams on a gold band A Springtime wedding
Respect: A Haiku
Demanded by Some Cherished as a treasured gift
A short Ode to Edgar Allen Poe
OH Edgar my friend, my morose brother Thine rhyme doth touch the heart like no other with your quick and wily pen;
A shot of Whiskey
As the sun is shinning on my empty home I pour a shot of whiskey To help kill the misery of you leaving me here all alone
“Never make your Hobby your job” My father once did advise For if you do what stirs your soul And rules your passions dies
A Million years to Sunday
I hold you close and lay your head upon my chest I kiss your soft and pale cheek and whisper “shhh little Dove, rest”
Road really not taken
“Two Roads diverged in a yellow wood, and sorry I could not travel both and I be one traveler, long I stood1”
A Kiss upon your Cheek
Two hearts bound by a single ring Two souls grow as one About this, the angels shall sing And in this way love has truly begun
This is what summer means to me
A warm summer day without a cloud in sight A baby bird Taking its first flight
School Days: A Haiku
School bells are ringing Hurried feet, birds make escape Childhood memories
With his snow white hair, his steel gray eyes
he lives in my dreams where no one cries.
the frail old man that he had become,
fades away under the noon day sun.
In my dreams he lives, in my memories he resides.
That strong young man so full of pride.
His spirit is with me I talk with him still,
His spirit surrounds me it protects me still.
A story, a smile makes a memory spark,