An artistic vision,
Appears,
Spontaneous
And so dear
Without even
Knowing,
What conditions
Synapse,
What impulses
Connect,
Push, extract
The essential essence,
That creates
The work of art.
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The need to write,
Delight!A way to feelAs you write,That can’t be helped,That can’t be stoppedLike the Ocean’s wavesGoing back and forth,Preceding, all.Love’s force,Born, not acquired,Mostly, inspiredThis burning,Irrepressible,Written page,The writer’s Stage,His written soul.
We build so much,
When will we learn to balance?The gifts we have, second to none,Respect and love for others.It’s time for wars and hate to STOP!Thou shall not kill, blindly at will,When will we learn to honor?And make this sacred Law for Life,Our one and only banner.
Oh, I get lost in good verse!
With delight, way deep, insideEmbracing, every word and meaning.That penetrating Light,That delectable flightThat we must have,To photosynthesize,Our feelings.
I saw you there,
I could love,No one else, but you,Your Soul appeared,In one big Smile,That sent me drifting,Down the Nile,Into a Sea of happiness,That only I could see and bless.All this was but a Fantasy,A dream of false Imagery,I know so well, you don’t love me,And yet as sad as this may be,I love you so, and always…
Poetry is Universal,
Since time immemorial,Poets are but fools that really care,They write to make things better,Love to spare.
Love is Love,
Hate is hate,Maybe not innate,But there’s much too much,Taught, taken advantage of,Love is love,In so many different waysLucky those,Whose lives it sways.