Walks, talks, thrills
Stays alive
Thru Time,
Preciously guarded
By its literary prime
That enables it to survive,
Beyond the guilt
Of all our crimes.
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Like in a trance,
Surrounding Glory,Of images, of feelings,That emerge like,Scintillating lightsIn spurts, that hurt,Like giving birth,And then, your poetic childIs born, it’s there,He’s gloriously ‘fair’And he becomes yours,Forever, to share,In every breath you take,And you slowly,Glide away together,Like, pure white Swans,In Love, floatingUpon Life’s Crystal Lake.
Every poem, a painting,
Impressions you can’t arrest,Impressions you can’t forget,Feelings and emotions,Of happiness or distress,Stamped in words forever,As in a painting, at its best.
For a poet,
Is like a flowerThat he hopesTime will not devourBut will teach,That Truth and Beauty,Were its finest hourAlways within reach.
You are what you feel,
There’s no escape,Lies don’t go far.
I’m a Poet Hunter,
I can kill a poem,Just to have some fun.We are unarmed Hunters,Won’t you join us now,Use imagination,We will teach you how,Open up your good heart,Love will enter then,Imagery will follow,Sounds of ecstasy,And before you know it,You’ll have Poetry.
Come from
Ancient Lands
Can express,
What nothing
Else can,
From the inner
Spirit,
To the deepest
Secrets,
Buried way below
In memory’s
Sands.
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A Poem sweet and sound,
When by yourself,It calms your nerves,Truly a new friend found.
Like a musical instrument,
My favorite sound,I rebound and vibrateWhen I hear your name,You know, very wellThat after seeing you,I was never the same!You’ve stolenMy heart, my LifeMy Domain,And now,Even in the darknessOf my solitudeI see you!Just the same,As I, becomeThe SoloistOf my lonely Concerto,Called, ‘Pain’.
Flat,
Or an outdoor mat,Indifference sets in,A moody spat with yourself,Hardly reacts,Nothing seems to count,Except disillusionment,And you don’t want to accept,The realization that,Nothing or no one to love,Projects a transparent image,Of emptiness,That you can’t pick up.
Man’s eternal problem,
Or not thinking at all,Think about it.
Word Twisters
They are always present,Since our first Tribe, clusters.Unsteady word DroolersDisgusting mind, Foolers,They bribeFrom false Social Coolers,Of freebees and promisesNot Kept, Ever!With more colorsThan a Chameleon,Politicians,Can willingly killEverything!Even anything forgottenOr burnt up,But left,They’ll kill again,For They are unchangedBut always promising‘Change’!
Certain Poetry
Make me forgetThatRegardless of timeAnd now being,21st Century, setMan is notCivilizedYet!