Understanding, faith and love,
That’s what poems are made of.
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I must confess,
It’s my religion, my love, my ecstasy,Like a mystic of old antiquity,I pray thru poems, poets and Poetry,I live in a world of pure and fantastic fantasy,A world of the Absurd where with one word,I can do Anything or go Anywhere,That word is Love,It embraces Everything,The World should be made Of,That is my confession,My magnificent…
Do you ever get accustomed
Staring at the wall,Walking up and down the hall.1 room,2 room, three,All empty,1 door,2 door, three,Who’s there?Only me.
I have found
Fully explained or sustainedThat there are flaws,In everything and everywhereThere are even those that think,That our liberty and livesWere preordained.I truly believeThat we know what we doAnd are responsible for our actsWe must face the factThat we are who we areAnd all the restIs a farce,Or a hypocriticalPromotional, act.
I wonder,
Or further tribulation,To an already bad situation.I wonder,About so many things,And get no answers,Just Mental Stings.Sometimes I hear strange, rapid rings,And see visions of even stranger things,Like the ‘Winged Victory of Samothrace’A favorite vision, of the Greece that was Great,No, no, I’m not insaneJust a bit lost, in this Mundane Rain.
Art, as therapy
Against, the World’sAbsurdity,Politics, as perversityControlled, cynicismFrom within,For evilTo spoil all,Life in generalFatigue, FearMind and SpiritFor all we doIs question AllNo true answersGiven,And that’s all….
‘Brothers and Sisters,
As poets,We should all try,To get along.After all,We are fraternally,Linked,Poetry,Our binding song.Peace and Love,Poetry’s dove.