And I say,
Pity, please!
Good poems
Are like flowers
Whose perfume
Will not cease,
That you can read
At leisure,
May bring you
Certain pleasure,
Even one day
Be treasure
That helps
A lonely heart
Find peace.
Similar Posts
If eventually,
That we do have a spirit,And are not but vile flesh,It will be thru Art and Poetry,That we’ll unravel the mesh.
The pleasure that Art gives,
If there is any part,Of man, that is really good,You can attribute it to Art,That deep felt creation,Less conceived in the mind,Born more from the heart,Inspiration, divinely blind,But humanly signed.
Life is a veritable puzzle,
Enjoy the good moments,Spread of the Rose,Its incomparable, natural perfume,But never the pain of its thorn.
Nothing lasts under the Sun.
Will be no more, one day,Everything is transitoryNot even Love can save the dayNot even Love can save,Anyone or anything,From going, Forever, away.
Upside-down,
History, retracts,Savagery returns, at a stone’s throw,Heads and low spirits in pursuit,Of the inhuman Lunacy of yore,Destructive tendencies, the roots,Of all manipulated War.And little men as rats leap,Standing on their hind legs,Showing their claws,Killing the Innocent,With cowardice and force,Closing of Humanity, the door,As mothers weep,For their sacrificed children,In a lost wild world,Where Lunacy is lord.
Can we reinvent ourselves?
Have different imaginary lives?Not enough trouble with one life,Can we be of Truth the sum,And still love ourselves?Or desert ourselves giving up?When all has been tried,But nothing won?Is it possible to resurrect?To sail a ship already wrecked?