Writing, reading Poetry,

But better tis, not to write any quizThat makes intelligence frownFor the danger is, the Poet may look,Like a silly, stupid clown.

Gives Life,Spirit touched,Vision falls in love.

Play inconsistent tricks.Each candleHas its wickAnd burns differently.Let’s respect our differencesCompassionately,Humanly, tolerantly.Tying to understand one another,Before accusing, blindlyAnd hopelessly.We will go farther….

Or is it both feeling at once?Our understanding finds appeal,In what mysteriously we feel,And think that enters thru the heart,Not that it matters,Which comes firstNor if they both are touched at once,The most important thing’s the burstOf deep emotional, wave shock,The Thunderbolt that will unlock,That light that’s waiting in the dark.

All they can thru might,They live blindly in their tower,Crushing most of what is right.

The anguish that I feelWhen I see this,This noble CountryBeing run by the insane.