I like to write

Of talking to oneselfWhen no one’s aroundTo listen,Pretending,You are just,BlendingArtistic sounds,And nothing else,While,Keeping prideAnd sanityIntact…

Knowing very wellThey are ephemeral,Are we cowards, blindOr fools supremeWalking in the fogOf Life.

Can’t understand,Being sly,Love thru Poetry,Is well worth a try.

And I really hate abuse,To be taken for a silly goose,My best friend is the Truth.

It doesn’t work.You try to find, the TruthYou’re just a jerk,You try to understandWhat’s going on,No magic wandYou try to live in Peace,Another Planet, please.

You are together,Not just for the ride.You rejoice in each other,Never to part,Because while together,You beat as One Heart.

Of nothing are we sure,That may not be invention,Of those that fake History,And take advantage,Of the few Innocents leftIn this valley of imperfection,As the light of truth gets dimmer,And our blood line to our History,So much thinner.

Why am I constantly living,In a world out of range?There comes a pointWhen you ask yourself,‘Is Life just a bad dream,Where everything seems,To be totally deranged? ‘Or is it my focus that’s wrong,Going thru life creating my own personal storm.

Our present was so shortBut forgetting you,Will be my Tragedy,Forever,Practically, impossible!For I learnedTo love you,Like the rose,Loves the earth,That hugs her,And nurtures her roots,Sustaining her beauty,Her home and her truth.I will be orphaned,And deprived of all lightWithout you,The light that emanatedFrom your bountiful spirit,That I shared, so closelyAnd loved, so much!And,What will I doWithout you?As…

Pleasure to few,But that is what I do,I speak my mind,Do you?

For in this unpoetic worldIt’s ugly, harsh realityThat destructively, rules.

When in melodious unity,A Poem may be born.

Don’t leave me,I’ve got but youTo believe me,Stay a littleLonger,I’ll be goodI promise!Like a childWhose love,Only growsStronger.

Painter, writerSo much can sayAnd hide,Thru Symbolism,That is why they say,You have to read‘In between the lines’Where signs and symbolsDo become,A guessing game,But those who get itFeel itHave the most magnificent,Intellectual, soul fulfillingAnd discerningly, illuminatingPrize!

So voting people do wake up,And see the truth,Before it is too late,Your Liberty’s at stake!

It has of language,Every human mood,And should be by allLoved and understood.

You think it is,Not just pretty wordsPut togetherTo speak aboutSeasonal weatherNot just poetic,Bliss,A Poem Is,Because its creatorMade it exist,Because it canTransmit,Feelings you neverFelt beforeBecause it madeYou feel,Spiritually, AliveLike you never feltBefore,Because it embracedYour soulAnd made you feelLove of spiritAnd thoughts,As you have neverFelt them beforeAnd never will,For anything elseIn that incredibleWay,That Poetry, Can!And that is…

And sometimes,In a LifetimeWe don’t evenKnow, why.