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
Spring: Haiku Life awakening Flower opens in the sun A world is reborn
Happy Mother's Day
Happy Mother's Day to my dear wife. Wonderful was the day you entered my life
School Days: A Haiku
School bells are ringing Hurried feet, birds make escape Childhood memories
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;
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
Wedding: A Haiku
Two fluttering hearts Sunlight gleams on a gold band A Springtime wedding
A Short Poem In The Greek Style
From the valley of Venus to the mountains of Aphrodite To my lovers embrace I travel this day, From my lovers embrace I shall not stray
Some Things My Dad Taught Me: An Essay
My father taught me a lot about life. Practical things like how to sharpen a knife and how to hammer a nail. Things of character like how to win and even how to fail. He taught with his words and his deeds with these tools he planted the seeds. Even to this day I often think about all that he had to say. Whether it was about driving or how you behave as a human being there was always a much deeper meaning. “A Poor Craftsmen blames his tools” The first time I heard this little jewel I had been a little project together that didn’t come out quite the way I had planned. When I started to complain to my dad that I could have done better had I had better tools all he had to say to me was “A poor craftsmen blames his tools”. Not an admonition about tools but to tell me to never accept less then your best. A lesson that applies to so many things in live be it building or taking a test.
Respect: A Haiku
Demanded by Some Cherished as a treasured gift
What Is A Grandfather?
What is a Grandfather? A Friend, a confidant, and a mentor That is what a Grandfather is.
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
The mighty hunter in the corner lies A purebred from his father to his mother chasing sunspots and hunting butterflies
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.
Jim Morrison: A Haiku
A golden God of rock In loneliness on the stage A brief candle burned
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,