Great Poetry

I know I’m speaking of,Fantastic Fantasy,But that is why our souls,Can still dream endlessly,And that is why today,We still write Poetry.

We Poets need to write,So we may live.

Colors will stream,And the Wind,Knows it.

When I no longer feel alive,I see great paintings and revive,Or watch a classic, flowing film,That lights the room however dim.I love all Art,For art is life,All that we carry way inside,The best of life’s spiritual riteThat moves our sentimental tideAll that transcends and reaches wide,That brings us close and so to findThe link between…

Or turn itPolitical butter,Won’t, earn it.False and rancidAll the same,Political corruptionIs their gainAnd our pain,OverpricedIntolerable device,This political curse,Corruption!

A little affection,To carry on,And not go thru life,In a loveless trance,Is that really,Too much for us to ask?Of Life’s disarrayed,And crazy dance?

Niceties,About poems read,But those runningFor office,Also, Colleagues in Crime,Attack each other,Act like Rattlesnakes,Full of Poisonous LiesAnd Pomposity!

When Spring was youngAnd new,Is painful from the very start,No longer is it true.My days go by,In one big sigh,As empty as can be,Sometimes, I just sit down and cry,My heart, an escapee,For nothing of that love remains,Today, a memory.

And clarifies rhymes.So here goes:I am a complete contradiction,A bit of realism but a lot of fiction,I do not live in a World I like,Nor do I want All, to be alike,I’d rather write than have a fight,Like to send many, to fly a kite,I sleep by day and live by night,But sometimes I tire…

Liquid gold,I’ve sailed the oceans,To project a lifeSo empty,Artic circlesWere less cold,I’ve climbedBare mountains,Thinking I wouldEasily find,Rarefied airThat makes all love,Seem kind,Yet all I foundWas thinning oxygenThat made it difficultTo breath,And get of LifeThat thrilling holdThat only, LoveCan give,Not being forcedOr even told.

Make some poemsEntertaining, interestingAnd fine.

Some might say‘Yes’, not worth a dimeBut breathing, thinking’Loving too,May not produce,Great wealth for youYet necessary are,And so is PoetryFor those who dreamAnd live,Reaching, for the Stars.

To the stratosphere,Of the poet’s mind,But will it bring,Contentment,The fulfillment,That Love promises,To find.

In someThe Spirit can go,With the body,Lagging behind,Within savage throw,Oh, the mysteryOf it all!Will we ever know?

Cracks in the mindsIn the hearts tooOf those who don’t care,That only want power,But dare,Want to govern us,‘Open Borders’The so called Democracks,Sing,What for, I pray?To have more criminals in,To join ‘the party’Of so many already inOur own rotten cropAs if we didn’t have enough!Stop the madnessDanger and Deception,We will not be fooled!It’s anarchy and votes…

Promised land?No longer callingFar away, the dreams are moaning,Far away, my love is fallingGone away, in early morningGod, I pray,Can’t keep on mourningSadness grips,There is no dawningFrom my eyes,Tears are so storming,What to do?There’s no returningBack to where,Love was once burningAshes smolder,You grow colderSweet repose,Come take me overWhat to do,When all love’s over,And you findThat…

The businesses that went bust?The banks that spread the dust?The politicians who’s LiesAre a Party’s, Must?The Answer is clear,Don’t trust Anything!That moves, talks,Or comes near.

Not always receiving,But without it,Living is not living,For loving is giving,The most precious gift,That you can give,And the most fulfilling.