In Poetry,

Why they come,We’ll never knowWhat makes you,The one you are?Each a Mystery,Great by far.Therapists,Have tried to help,But even they,Get tangled,In themselves.

And most goose-stepping people,Can’t seem to be able to think,On their ownOr even do the right thing.

Softly said in timeCan mean, so much!God knows,We’re so alone and lostIn this ValleyOf hypocrisy and deception.This beloved, ‘Terra Nostra’,Our dear Earth,That we so selfishly,Mistreat and Mutilate,Thinking that allBelongs to Us,Not counting otherLiving creaturesAnd growing things.For we are,Selfish and inhuman beings,Who for centuriesHave cultivated, not eliminated,Evil’s touch from our souls,Nor successfully plannedEvil’s well deservedDiscrimination and…

But you can’t tool It,Because It’s writtenBy your Soul.

Have something niceTo say,And be kind toAn animal,Others and yourself,Write a poemTake a walk,Kiss Nature,Hold a hand,And try to,Unhate, hate itself,For a better WorldTo get on its waySo please,Have a nice day,Today!

It sooths me,It keeps me saneIn an insane world,It opens doors,Never bores,Communicates,It’s with me always,Poetic voyage,That takes me,To the brim of happiness,Saving me from darkness,Keeps me breathing,Keeps me living,Was my first love,And will be my last,Always with me,Unending love,Universally vast.

New Horizons,Open Seas,Those that truly care,About,What’s Really FAIR!

Where no light will shine, now ever,Nor give respite to my plight.Have you by now, All forgotten?All your words that were caress,That were written for me only,When you thought I was the best.So now Nothing really matters,I will no longer posses,All the dreams that now are shattered,I shall put this Love to rest.

‘Because we’re very Sly,And want everything for Free!Conclusion,Always fooling others,Does not make us better brothers.

The Time that we all borrow,Is Never here to stay.

The rhyme and rhythmOf Love,It’s intense feelingIt’s inner song,That we can’t resistThat speaks onlyTo the soul.Art, music and poetryIn all its forms, areThe unviolated StarThat everyone can own,That we cannot resist,For it speaks onlyTo the soul,A benediction of feelingsThat is democratically,Owned,Dove’s purityBeauty’s throneFountain of blessingsFulfillment of all souls,That lovingly embraceThis spiritual union,Its everlasting call.

Miracles!No explanationThey just, AREAnd if anythingSurvives,They will,Being Eternity’sStars.

There I saw the hidden tiesThat would make us become one,Moments were in heaven made,Moments that would never fade,Meeting moments, hand in hand,Looks that spoke a secret language,Only hearts could understand.

The true reality,Our own weakAnd distrustfulPersonalities,Not easy,Who to blameFor the disintegration,Of the societyWe live in?Not easy!In thousands of years,Neither politicsNor religion haveMade us betterWe remainAs shameful as everCrawling in our ownMan Made Mud,A disgrace to ourselvesAnd to the societyWe live in,A being no betterThan what the BibleTold us, once he was.We are what we areNot…

I feel your shadow,Closely, byAnd a desperate windOf cold, surrenderChills my heartMaking me cry.Time has passedMaking, no betterSo the endlessQuestion,‘Why’How short ourLove and LifeTogether,Smoldering ashesThat refuseTo die!And the pain embraces,Strongly,And my space startsTo close inAs I know,I’ll love you onlyLife was not for usTo win.

Our Life sequenceDepends on,Those heartless birds.

No more to and fro,As if we never were,Like a come and go,That finally endsTragically.Gone are the sunsets,That kissed the sea,The love, the light we knew,You and Me.

Reaching for the Sky,For the Ultimate Truth,Saying All,About Creation,In one Sigh.

As people are bled,And treason is fed,Who can we trust?With fortune and lust,All leaders are wed,As Countries they shred,Who can we trust?To do what is just,Keep promises said.

Pleasing to the ear,But spiritually, more fit.There is an invisible rhythm,Born to PoetryThat heightens language’s prism,And keeps it in memory.There is an internal sweetness,Sole to Poetry,That tenderly speaks to lovers,So they know what Love can be.

To become favored in our mind,And stay in memory, for ever.

From Greece to our times,They have sung to LoveMillions of times,Never giving up,The Hope of finding it.

Who says Miracles don’t exist,When Love, the greatest one of all,Can burst, spontaneously,Without a call,Not wanting even to impress,Born from a look, a slight caress!And suddenly you see the dawn!And suddenly you are reborn!Poetry is very much like this,Without you calling,It exists,Come out of where?Some hidden mists,That lifts and shows,A naked Soul,Your life’s long list,And…

For that is whereWe all end up,But at leastI have the joyThru writingOf neverHaving given up,Sustained byThe harmoniousBeauty,That surroundsLife, LoveAnd PoetryWell worth,Not ever,Giving up.

Do lovers cry in Autumn,For fear of losing All?Why is this Season favored,By poets and by song?Is it because they know and feel,That Life will be reborn?Or because they sadly hearLife’s melancholy song?

Felt so endlessly,Miraculously.Love, blending,Two lives, two hearts,In deep passionate motion,Heavenly music,A chorus of Stars,Love lights lovers’ path,In never ending devotionThat will forever last,As the deepest of emotions.

I cannot believe in Compassion,While Murder is in fashion,And we hate one another,With such morbid Passion.

Something in them dies,But express yourself positivelyNot by harming othersOr taking them to placesWhere muddy hate resides.

In search of answers,I return with empty hands,And an even heavier heart.The meaning of Life escapes me,So much fight, so much pain,For Nothing!Lucky are they who,Have some happy moments to remember,Who think All is not in vain,Who in Life’s goings and comings,Still manage to stay sane.

It can’t be forced or bought,Like the perfume of a Rose,It’s origins, unthought.