Conquer
From the very start,
Try to find your heart
Where it will, hopefully,
Of you
Become a part,
With each read,
A loving start.
That’s how certain poems
Are,
Those you, love,
Never old and never far.
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I would have loved
In the flowering budsOf early Spring!An awakening,A Renaissance,From ashesTo burning fire.
Many poets,
Live by night,Like Dracula and bats,Am I saying somethingThat will shake upThe annals of PoetryOr a scientific fact?Those with answersPlease send statsTo the Count’s, habitatThank you,For your kind attentionAnd that’s that.
Art must be,
In an almost holy action,Initiating,Profoundly, touching reactionsThat in amorous conjunction,Between feelings and inspirationWill enableThe artist to dream out his work,Giving rebirth to his spiritual beingThru creative feelings and thoughtsThat can neither be forced nor bought,Art, to be shared, with no profit seekingExcept for, the communicative pleasureInvolved,Like cultivating a rose,Just to receive the thrill and pleasureThat…
The dramatic side of human stupidity,
In order to intertwine,Incompetence with anonymity.
Potentially explosive,
Poets defy,With their rhythmic cry,Thru all our times,The odds.And if words make it,Out of their pen,What joy is felt,Forever, then!
A poem must speak
From insideNever,It’s true feelingsHide,Or deny,Its Heart feltMessage,Clearly, gratifyRejectingHate, destructionAs disqualified.Poets,Be the HopeOf the World!In these times,So undignified,So lostSo vilified,Be the Love,We should carryWith human pridePoetry, be Brave!And never give inYou’re the LightOf our spirit,The Hope,Pride in feelingsFrom way, way within.