No, I’m not a racist
And don’t you dare!
I speak of poems
Of poems, so dark
Even with a flair
They remain,
Incomprehensible!
In their lair,
‘Of I don’t care’
So, to them I say,
Good night,
And ask,
About those poems,
‘Who turned off
the light? ‘
No, I’m not a racist
And don’t you dare!
I speak of poems
Of poems, so dark
Even with a flair
They remain,
Incomprehensible!
In their lair,
‘Of I don’t care’
So, to them I say,
Good night,
And ask,
About those poems,
‘Who turned off
the light? ‘
As what wasFondly ableTo reach,The heart,In its most,Intimate domain.
Finality,Nothing is forever,Except the last departure,No returns, no voucher,To come back,And those still here,Empty,In this whole sphere,Of now,Nothing!When Loved Ones disappear.
And never thinkThat we don’tKnown it.And yet,Our DestinyWe cannot escapeA poet’s worldIs his worded cape.
Because it blends feelingsBecause it dries tearsAnd sometimes provokes them,Touches your heart,Holds your handInvisibly,And thru words can,Even, take your SoulTo its promised land.
Every sentiment just right,Form a Necklace of well being,Made of beauty, sound and light.
Make believe the World is clear,Like a windy summer day,With you very close and near,Fantasy, in every way!Make Believe is just for me,Don’t like harsh reality,So I word and feel my way,Seeking inner dreams to say,Feeling deeply all that movesStaying free in what I chose,Wasting time in imagery,Mostly writing poetry.