Life’s complicated
Spins and Spans,
That like in films
Accompany, the vital Whims
And Screenplays of our Lives.
Spotlights so dim,
The more we search,
The less we understand
The reasons why?
We’re given life
That is to die,
As all around us closes in
And dreams no longer satisfy
With hope,
Our vital auto-trance
The sleeplike altered state
That due to age,
Prevents the apparition
Of a second chance.
Poetry.Poems, areCurative medicineFor the soul,No matter,How aloneOr sadThe patientBe.And believe itOr not,It’s free!So,In Life,Remember,All are welcomeTo their,Democratic doseOf poetry.
On your face,When everything around you is falling apart.And the World is but a Nightmare of disgrace,God bless good friends,Amen.
For life?Probably,But in a much moreHumane wayThan the branding iron’sScarlet letter.Poetry in the poetLeaves its markNot escapable,Only, writableOften you may writeA poem, simply by feelHaving joyous, appealFulfilling you,Mellifluously, entirelyFascinating, words appearLike magic doves,Flying from magician’s hatYour poem sings melodically,Euphorically,Maybe claiming other soulsThat want to see, to feelWhat you see and giveAs the doors to dreams…
And wrong things last so long,Life is complex and not easy,Happiness a fleeting song,Loneliness an empty dome,Love the best thing you can own.
Don’t let ChameleonsFool you!Those that call others, racistsWithout fundament or reason,Are themselves the biggest RacistsThey drown innocence, truth and feelings,For, the truest and biggest racistAre They!Who want total control and power,But have nothing positiveTo give or say,As they attack othersIn a most false and despicable way!
Flashing on to words and sounds,Light that follows, newly found.
