Living passions
Are the Arts,
A fluidity not rationed
Instantly,
Sets them apart.
Life’s adventure
Always different
As an ever burning hearth,
Love, the feeling that inspires
As the Artist’s inner fires
Become mirrors of his art.
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Four walls,
PencilThat’s how I write,In the solitudeOf day and nightIn the silence,Of my tearsAnd the memoriesOf thoseThat have takenFlight,I writeNot to cave in,Not to give upBecause,I must still tryTo make,Whatever I canRight!In honor of TruthIn honor of Justice,I fightI write!
Poetry!
Regardless ofRuthless timesAnd sadness had,Please bring out,The very best in usThe Love, the GoodnessThe Beauty, the TruthThe Wisdom,We are supposed to have,The humanity we’ve lost,Along the wayAnd never again found,Bless us with your musicHeaven bound,Give us the Peace,That we were meant to haveMake us whole againAs we were meant to be,Please,Long Live Poetry!
Something to love
Sweetly desireAnd love,There isn’t much leftBetter still,Is there anything leftClean, good to desire?We live in a WorldOf ugliness, moral theft,And destructive, FireWhere robbers are heroesMoral rape, we accept,Where sanity and beautyAre spat upon and mocked,Where to go?When all decency seemsTo be gone,And all sensitivity,Crushed and shocked,Devastatingly, blocked!Lost amongst the screamsOf a deadly, choir.
We are,
Never to be seen again,Nothing, ever lastsNor us, nor we, nor themOnce the die is castAnd Life is on its way,There is no turning backTill our final day,But how we miss our Past!The once lived, happy days,For some, yet not for all,Those days, those yearsThat won’t come back,Like first Roses of MayLike Love that’s gone…
A poem can express
Love, sadness,Distress, happinessAll in one,And at the same timeThe spirit bless,With the belovedUniquenessOf a caress.
Poetry has it All,
Philosophy and more,It has the Poet’s Soul.