it comprehends that creating
that surfing to the moon,
that lover who comes along all to soon,
that flying in space
with no surface,
yes, my poetic zest
with rhyming end
is this a trend?
poetry can contain
omni-poetess
only not me
I cannot sing in the rain
but poetrycontains,
a song with epic refrains
disdained and yet
uplevelled
and fuelled
by tears
and mears
poetry….
I love thee!
yours, Sylvie
© Sylvia Frances Chan – All Rights Reserved
Friday 5 June 2020
Similar Posts
just beat it!
though by walking fasterjust beat it!that’s all of it!as simplestas smartest brains gojust beat thatyoucan walk fasterjust to beat that disasterit’s not that problemI declare this solemnyou have to do that in practiceyou’ll noticethat it’s not that easy isfull of pleasure to do this adventurejust beat thatit’s that simplenever think too longthat you may be…
The Ultimate One, driven by TWO persons
The Ultimate One, driven by two persons as OneMaking Love….in Body and MindAs One Soul true kindOnly able by True Lovewith the help of God AboveHeaven is the NameNo, not some funny odd game….The Ultimate Onethe greatest choice most careful everwhen the blessed life has startedwe both be a part of it, but love’s never…
Life is art, like eating
eating is visibleart oftentimes notLove is art, like breathingyou do it every dayboth are invisibleat the touch of your handsat the touch of your heartthey will be visiblethey’ll get eyes, feelings, and imaginationssoon you have a grip on life as well on loveLove is like Life is Artyou cannot buy themthey are the treasures of…
Sweetheart just wanna tell ye
of asking the selfto have a muse for musing?Though loveliest but confusingshe cannot create nor contemplateor at least she does not exaggerateI must admitand that´s itno need to have this bulsh-tso sorry to mention this wordnow you knoweven in heaviest wintertime, so absurdbecause of too much snowthe mind cannot go outand I am proudto tell…
Our Eyes, our precious eyes, God´s comfort
God will never take away this greatest valuable supportHe is healing all the ailing partsHe is a God of Greatest LoveHis Residence is straight aboveWe can never imagine His Love for usso greatest, that surpasses truly all things with plusbelieve in Him as a child is truly a mustmy heart is crying all the time,…
ALS Tijd me toestaat…
maar aan de andere kantTijd is als een stiefvader(de meeste stiefvaders zijn onaardigsommige heel weinig zijn de lievelingen op aarde)dit is een uiterst belangrijk gedichtmijn stiefvader is zéér ernstighij heeft zoveel plethoras van regels achter zichIk wou dat mijn eigen vader nog leeftmaar helaas was hij naar de hemel gegaanom met God te praten over…
You fill our souls
With words of grace
A love no one
Can steal, efface,
Not even, Jupiter’s
Formidable Thunder!
Similar Posts
Dear lovely Computer,
Time traveling redeeming,The things I have seen,The Past, Films and musicThe Present, new song,The Future, uncertain,So much can go wrong,And yet I do love you,I’ll follow it AllYou are My Computer,My own Crystal Ball.
I’m all versed out,
I sit there gazing,At the floor,I want to leave,But don’t know how,I’m tired of fighting,Here and now,What is the point?The game is through,Can’t waste my time,Just loving you,It was a dream,A movie scene,That motionless,Stayed on the screen.
It’s so unfair, isn’t it?
So many times are put aside,Not understood, told to beware,And said to be unfit,To guide, to give, to shareWhile demons in waitingWith forked tongue,Are allowed to skin us, bare.
A broken heart laid on the floor,
Life is too cruel, and people’s core,Is mostly rotten, trust, What for?
I close my eyes,
Not only thereBut Everywhere,You stole my heartAnd all I doIs night and dayThink about you.Love is like that,You are possessedBy the very oneYou want to possess,Nothing to do,The die is cast,I love you moreAnd never less,The flame is there,With each caress.
If I can make you happy,
If I can look upon the stars,And wish good things to happen,Why should I wish for bad?If I could change war into peace,I certainly would try,After so many years have past,It’s time for War to die.
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
Of talking to oneself
When no one’s around
To listen,
Pretending,
You are just,
Blending
Artistic sounds,
And nothing else,
While,
Keeping pride
And sanity
Intact…
Similar Posts
The things we do,
Reactions ofCandle to wick,The candle burns,As Life does too,Destroys the wickAs flames go thru,Only true LoveCan help surviveAnd thru it allKeep us alive.
‘If you are,
There can be no jealousy’Two poets discuss their merit,Knowing they can bear it!
Song so close to Verse,
From the heart,Touches the soul,Once again you hear Life’s call!
Like the flame
Whose drip, drip,Fades life awayLike the mountainHigh to handleJust Because itsMade that way,Like the silent love,No scandal,That you dare notEver say,That’s what lovingYou, is like,Unattainable,As love slowly diesFrom inattention,The same way.
Free, Free, Forever!
Imagination,That is in me,I travel,To the Land of the Free,A star is born,Within,A light,No matter how slight,It’s still a light,With which you can see,A Light,Obliterating Night,Ignorance and pain,Becoming more humane,Thru Love,Freedom’s Light,Forever Free!
Man’s eternal problem,
Or not thinking at all,Think about it.
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
Because it blends feelings
Because it dries tears
And sometimes provokes them,
Touches your heart,
Holds your hand
Invisibly,
And thru words can,
Even, take your Soul
To its promised land.
Similar Posts
There is an invisible link
One,The unlimited Love of Verse,Profound and immersed,Palpitating first,Like no other one.
This used to be our time,
Spring Time,When, we were happiest together,As Winter’s cold retreated,March sang its Spring Time Song,Slowly, then fury, excitementAll around us, new life was born,But this year, it’s sadly different,Gone for me all the excitement,You’re no longer by my side,And all love is gone without you,Life is but an empty ride.I remember days of rapture,When togetherness was…
Cradled by your poems
Looking at the skyThe ocean loves the Moon,So why can’t I,Open New Horizons,Instil in those,Who want Life’s light,Poems, never tried.With love, eternalized.
At night,
Our only light,Sometimes so bright,It seems someone up high,In the sky,Has not wanted the light of day,To completely die
Loneliness loves Company,
A Computer, perhaps,A talking, TV,A Telephone, App,That makes you feel,Like more of a Sap,Sucking up your humanity,Wishing, Silence were not,So terribly, empty.
The things they do,
Will make you happyLove goes so far,Beloved, dogs, and cats and petsBetter than all Casino bets.
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
Catapult you to the stars
In long loving summer nights,
Have the moonlight softly
Kiss you,
In a rapture of delight,
Cross the oceans,
Make the sterile deserts flower
Capture love’s sweet, finest hour
Make you feel, so fancy free
Allowing, you to enjoy
All that you are and want to be
Indeed a veritable wonder
That can elevate the soul
To regions of unimagined thunder.
And yet,
Much to Poetry’s regret,
There is one miracle,
It cannot give,
The real, true love
All beings need,
To live.
Similar Posts
She loved him for his mind,
So brilliantly knowledgeable, without hesitation,But she could not love him for his heartEven if she had wanted to with all her heartFor none he had,No kindly feelings,No compassion, no sensationsNo tenderness, no passionCold like Ice, Winter’s ration.Sadly,She could not love, a heart of stone,So all her life, she was alone.
Why do we laugh?
I want to know,Please tell me why?Must I confront,This great unknown,Today, tomorrow,All alone?Is there no one who can, pray, tell,Why we do laugh and cry so well?It’s Universal, as you know,So laugh and cry, and just let go.It’s all a part of Life’s weird show.
Feeling, Poetry
As the French say‘C’est pas facile’It is not easyIt takes an effortOf mind and spiritTo follow,Not having,A perspectiveThat’s really, narrowOpen mind, open cloudsAllowed to travel,Open routesDiscover, marvelsThat you feelMore than you seeAnd that’s just partOf the mysterious magicOf Poetry!
Hate brings on more Hate,
Humanity’s shameful slate!Used as miserable bait,Just to dominate.
The essence of the essential,
It can capture in a few words,All the sadness, all the bliss.All the Love that does exist.
Poetry is,
You can’t shake it,Falsify it,Or fake it.Like Autumn Leaves,Poems may fall,But it takes the heart,To authenticate them,All.
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
How can I help loving you?
When the things you say
Capture beauty’s eye
Send the heart spinning
In a journey full of Love
Way, way up into the sky
When I’m with you,
Wings I do not need to fly
See, what this love is
I think I’ve given you
Enough reasons, Why.
Similar Posts
Me and my poetry,
She gives me a certain youthful glow,She’s the closest friend I’ll ever know,She’s the one that said, and meant it too,Life is nothing to me, without you.
Fair or Unfair,
We’re so often stuck!With so many chips,That have no luckIn Life’s roulette,This game is called,‘La Fuerza del Destino’
We strive to be the best,
We Poets need to write,So we may live.
The Blue was so Intense,
A small one tried to form,But then was never born.The Blue was so intense,It made all Dreams make sense,You felt that Life was good,And Love well understood.There are some moments when,The Purity of Blue,Not only fills the sky,But stays within you too.
Love and live,
My love is everywhere,And as long as I’m alive,For you alone,I’ll Love and Care.
The joy,
Has no buying price,It’s warm, tenderAnd gentle,Also, sentimentalAlways lovableAnd nice.
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
Freedom of space,
Of mind, Of spirit,
Embracing, Grace,
Happiness, placed
All of Life in it.
Similar Posts
What will be liked
That is the artist’s plightAnd lack of light,But still he plungesThru the creative doorHoping and prayingTo get it right!With artistic courageAs love,Never giving up!
Keeping the mind active,
But the more you thinkIndependentlyThe more you are despised.Sad but true,Ignorance is not new.
Alone we are
With our dreams,And personal pain,Trying to hold together,Our fragile human domain.
Pumpkins,
Orange light,Monster fright,Chocolate-Candy nightKids delight.
The sun had kissed
Making them Pink,The sky behind themColored in Aqua-blue ink,The Artist of the SunsetWould not say,If all was his invention,Or it really was that way.
Cracks in the walls
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…
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
Or steep it in a cup
As if it were English tea,
It’s there or it isn’t,
There is no recipe.
Similar Posts
Poetry communicates,
You can imagine,In a most naturalAnd heart felt fashion.
Some people love the Truth,
Very Few,But some do.Searching for Truth,We have progressed,But Peace in Truth,Is what is best,Truth, pleaseAccept all my respect.
When I feel down and worried,
The answers don’t come easy,I always wonder, Why?All Mysteries are heavy,The load a vital Pain,And sometimes I just worry,That Life is all in vain
Shadows squirm around in visions,
Parting was not ‘such sweet sorrow’,For I know that come tomorrow,A blank world, I’ll have to face.Lost forever, torment follows,And I cannot find your face,All I have are painful Shadows,Dancing round in deathly pace.I will not wake up tomorrow,I refuse to accept your gone,When you left, all turned to sorrow,There was no place to move…
Love adores
To have and to holdForever,Love is very cleverIt knows it needsAnotherTo be completeAnd life’s sadnessDefeat,Yes, Dearest,The triumph of loveIs very sweet.
I study feelings,
Not bragging,Just understanding,Seeing,How feelings,In other human beings,Nest,The gestures, the eyes,The movements,The internal pound,The language that is said,Without making a sound.A thrilling sensation,Observing all this,To me it means,Deep Human communication,Truly does exist.
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
It sooths me,
It keeps me sane
In 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.
Similar Posts
If poets ruled the World,
Nothing,Would get doneBut at least liesAnd deep corruption,Would not fly,Too busy writing poemsTo send people to die,Or chop upEach other’s hide,With intriguesConvoluted by, very foulAnd criminally inducedPolitical rot and actions!
Be brave,
Nothing has changedThe clouds are the same cloudsThe sea keeps calling me,Where drowning painsDo not alleviate, our brevity.The years don’t pass in vainAnd now it’s much too lateFor new dreams, to contemplate,My time has passed in vain,Now, only emptiness remains…
It’s over,
I no longer seek answers,Only Peace.My fatigue is great,As if I were a fireplaceWhere all of life’s logs have been burnt,One by one,Seeking the fire of knowledge,And still,I know nothing,From whence I come?To where I shall go?However, the Search is overNow, I must rest my weary self,My tired stepsAnd give up,Trying to find love,In Love…
Most of the time
Feelings that hideNo more,Opening doorsRoses,Perfuming thoughtsLoving tendernessBeautiful words,Spoken music,Just waiting to accompanyHeart and mind,Trying to unravelMysteriesThat from usUsually hide,Yes!Poetry, Poetry, PoetryLove’s creation,From the very depthsOf our soulTaking us,Even to ecstasy,Lovingly,Poetry’s, spiritual callA thrilling moment,Of beauty and purityTo thankfully,recall.
I suppose
Believe in love,No matter whatIt is all we have left,As time goes on,Loving someone or somethingVery much!It’s what saves usFrom collapsingAnd just folding up,We must keep lovingJust to continue living,Keep the heart beatingSurvive,And believingThat love is so fulfillingAs it is healing,Generously,Keeping us alive.
The great Democracy,
Literary Art,One is free,To read or read not,To tie many times with another,An invisible-insoluble knot,That an author can freely establish,Democratically,With those he knows not.
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
The one and only Queen
Of emotional expansion
Love,
As written passion,
In immortal fashion.
Similar Posts
Who would tell us that one day,
That Love is stronger than the rest,And always finds a way to nest,Upon Life’s highest, hopeful tree,That with its ever greenery,Says, life is good because we’re we,Not you, not ever lonely me,Together, holds eternity.
Here is to Poetry
Its deep comprehensionAnd its wise concepts.Here is to PoetryThat throughout our livesShould hold up the torchFor beauty and loveFor all that is right,Permitting flight.Long live you, Poetry!Heart of all hearts,Open window,Colored spectrum,ResurrectionOf all Arts.
A moment of Glory
As a moment of Love,If you are lucky enough,To come under its touch.
Much more than desire
And if it’s never burned youThen you haven’t lived,No, you haven’t lived at all.
I’m Steaming,
We’re like chickens being plucked,There is nothing that is straight,Miss the good old days of Watergate.
Moods,
They make you sadThey make you mad,But love,You must know by now,Is the deepest of vowsThe very best you have,Or will ever, have had.
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
When loneliness
Is at its height,
And Stars, converse
With mortals,
About Love.
Similar Posts
I love to love you, painfully,
I know it’s much too late for me,The forest sometimes kills the tree,But I will love you all the same,Today, tomorrow, endlessly,For without knowing, painfully,You did become the best in me.
Those that live
Have a very hard time,Everything marks themDeeply,Everything’s feltBoisterously,In laughs or in cry,From the infinitesimalTo the sublimeFrom the heartTo the mind,Nothing is leftBehind.One might sayIts a devouring pleasure,Still waiting,For true love,With no regretsJust the treasuresThat only,An open mindCan find.
Oh, but Love has crossed the line,
Not at all, never mistake,For what does more captivateThan true Love to make Life great!
We are but sophisticated
Making it always possibleThe Other, thru red hot coalsTo rake,How can I fool you?Then say it was a mistakeBy now we should knowThat most of whatWe call ‘people’Are but a living mistake.
Where did time go?
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.
A Poet can see,
Love all that,That cannot be,And still be part of Mystery.
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
To whom, you just can’t say
Go away, get lost
Come back another day,
It just doesn’t work that way,
Imperatively, they must be written
For the poet’s survival
And the poem’s, birth day
Similar Posts
Happy when together
Love is true fulfillmentFrom the very start.
What is natural,
Where does lifeBegin or end?So many answers given,But not OneCan fully explain,Nor even start,To comprehend.That the fogThat we live inIs but anguishTill the end.
Communication,
How did we meet?In conversationTemptation,A friendshipTo keep?
So many thing are,
A longer word thanInsignificant,However pleasant, inconsequentialMay be.But seriously,what really counts,In this crazy world,Is what touches the heart,Individually so,And the rest is just,Not fundamental,We might even say,Inconsequential!
I love you Poetry,
In graying rain or shining sun,You are my love, my only one,We go together everywhere,We think alike,Our likes, dislikes,Express ourselves,In candid verse,And when it’s time,To write our dreams,We always flow into extremes,For Love is our priority,My one and only, Poetry,With you I’ll go just anywhere,As long as for me, you still care.
The joy to look up at the sky,
Whatever is that poets do,But that gives me no great content,For I know not where freedom went,It seems that violence and deep lies,Have taken over all that slides,Right into oceans of despair,And no one really seems to care,Our world divided into partsWhile Fools keep pushing crooked carts.
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
Would be like being deaf,
For from you,
The sweetest, saddest,
Music from the soul
Was immortalized,
Verbally.
Similar Posts
What a poem can express,
With just a few words,A whole lifetime of feelingsYou can scan,Lifetime, feelings, wordsPaper, pen, blend,From beginning to end.
Everything, a mystery,
My God, how did we everCome about?Must have been,A tragic mistakeOf that I have no doubt.
What do we love,
It’s not only their face,It’s not only their eyes,Above all it’s the Soul,That shines, identifies,And silently signifies,Love’s mysterious, flowing tide.
Only One,
So old and yet so young,Out of our deepest feelingsYou are spun,A singing birdThat flies,From soul to soulSo that Love and Hope,Are never done.
I rhymes with why,
Why I’m always asking why,Maybe it’s just not to cry,At the impossibility,Of really knowing, why.
What the hand can do,
Especially express,With a caress,The tendernessOf Love,Like no words can.
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
A poet’s blood
The air he breaths
The love he seeks
A living must
And Words,
Words, from the soul,
Expressing all.
If one day
All this goes away,
The poet, dies
So strong are,
These living ties.
Similar Posts
Poetry,
That laidThe Golden Pen.And We,Don’t even know,How or When.
In positive Change,
We must learn to change,Control human madness.
Eating Healthy is now the rage,
This is what you’ve got to do,Stop indulging on that plate,Of politically correct, obnoxious stew
Still trying to explain,
There are loves born at first sight,Others come with slow delight.But the love I have for you,Never has to be renewed,It’s so mine, I can’t see thru,The romantic, ideal view,That makes you seem like a dream,Everyday, it’s stronger too,Unexplainably supreme,Of my life, the lasting theme.
I don’t write,
And my feelings sometimes,Translate into song,Always searching,Right from wrong.
So much in Poetry is Feelings,
But I’d rather express my feelings,Than with indifference be hit
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
Thoughts
Feelings
From the heart,
Blaze
Life!
Created
In a sort of trance
With no formula,
To even give it
A head start,
A miracle,
A mystery,
In which the poet
Just plays,
Gratefully!
His humble part.
Similar Posts
Forbidden loves,
Passionate dreams,Not easily won,The pain is great,Rewards are none,Stronger than life,Their webs are spun.
Blessed are those,
Who are not afraid,When Life is here,Falling apart,Trembling, decay,When people cry,Or cannot pray.Blessed are those,Who cannot feel,Who go through life,Not knowing where,Love will reveal,It’s holy prayer,Nor do they care,To show their bliss,Just unaware,That Life existsWith pain or care,They are just there,An Empty Stare.But, now beware,Of those that feel,That all of Life,Is a bad Deal,They know…
Free Spirit,
Does not follow all the facts,Psychological normality,In most instances does lack.Dreamer,Never schemer,In Life’s inconsistent act,Chasing shadows, past and present,Knowing nothing’s here to last.Planner,Like the wind blowing thru willows,One day strong and one day not,Spirit up and spirit down,Tenderness that will not stop,Easily called, sentimental,Emotionality on top.Pinnacle, conclusion,As Free Spirit, most important,Feel intensely to all depth,So…
Poets dream,
A cloudless day,A starry night,We are content,With Love’s delight,A kiss for you,A kiss for me,And a Romantic Fantasy.
Poets work like Busy Bees.
All they want is to reach others,Make their days a bit more sunny,I assure you from experience,They’re not in it for the money.
As a child,
The Moon and goFor a ride,Inside the sky(Hey, diddle, diddlethe cat and the fiddle,the cow jumped over the moon)One of my favorite,Nursery RhymesI also wanted to play ballWith the planetsAnd see what there was,Inside,I suppose that wasMy short lived, Astronaut side,Also wanted to Fraternize,With roses and birds,Nature’s honey slideBeing a child,With all the hopesAnd dreams,…
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
That keeps on giving
So that the spirit
Love and feelings
And whatever else
Is human in us,
Doesn’t dry up.
Similar Posts
I like to write
Give TruthThe HeightIt deserves,And love,All creaturesWith great might,Love savesThe little lightWe still, conserve.
This is true,
Whose name is, Cortana‘What is love? ‘, for you.Answer:‘I’ll start workingOn it,Immediately!Just give me a fewHundred years’She, cleverly, said.Amazed by the answer,I though to myselfEven,Computers can’t answerThe most belovedAnd greatest,Mystery,Of Life, itself!
Poets cry, so why can’t I?
But, I feel for all those,That have died, in vain,For a World that doesn’t even care,If there is Justice or despair.Oh my tears could fill the Sea,World, full of Hypocrisy.
Poetry,
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.
There is an invisible link
One,The unlimited Love of Verse,Profound and immersed,Palpitating first,Like no other one.
Words can embrace you
From falling apart,But when love departs,Or never wasOr left you,There are no words,Nothing on earthCan really mendA broken heart.
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
On me,
Schizophrenic delight,
Withdrawal from reality
Into fantasy, delusion
Emotional profusion,
Flight!
That totally liberates me,
I travel thru time and space
At the velocity of Light
No waste, just faced
With being,
What I want to be
Just delighting in fantasy,
And, completely,
Totally and overwhelmingly,
FREE!
Similar Posts
What I love of politicians,
That are sage and well intended,When they want to get selected,But once in a state of power,It’s as if an ice cold shower,Washed away All they PretendedYes, ladies and gentle voters,Pay attention, close your motors,Dressing salads, gets elected.
Your charm was
You filled heartsAnd rooms and playsYou became a star,Whose light went farJust because you wereThat way.
Broken hearts cannot be
Nor can Solitude findHome,When I lost you,My life ended,When you left,So did my soul.
English is not Spanish,
For Spanish is my loverBut English sets me free.
The sun had kissed
Making them Pink,The sky behind themColored in Aqua-blue ink,The Artist of the SunsetWould not say,If all was his invention,Or it really was that way.
Poetry, look at me,
Was our love-life something wrong?To desire with such fire,All a poem can prolong.Life is nonsense without substance,If some good you can’t perform,I have loved you with my conscience,And the passion of a Storm.Poetry, beloved Fountain,Of my Life, you are my home,And my Country and my Mountain,And my ever reaching Dome,You’re the Ocean of my motion,Where…
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
That laid
The Golden Pen.
And We,
Don’t even know,
How or When.
Similar Posts
Nothing puts a smile on my face,
Kelly Kurt does this with talent and grace,And for that, we all owe ‘im.
Poets,
Bizarre and Blue,KnowingNothing’s true,Except if you findThat, extra special‘Me and You’.
As the fog invades the prairie,
I remember times so merry,When we really had it all.Just two beings in the slumber,Of a dreamlike love affaire,Living just to love each other,Thinking then, that Life was fair.For our hearts were filled with flowers,Moon and Stars were there to share,And the Ocean sang a love song,That we thought we’d always share.But in Life nothing’s…
I don’t write,
And my feelings sometimes,Translate into song,Always searching,Right from wrong.
Life,
It begins!And is over so soonAnd we, wastePrecious time,Playing, the Loon,Accusing,Every one elseOf our troubles,And LunaticallyScreaming,At the lonely Moon.
Reading into Life,
Trying to bring some light,To the many Mysteries there.
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
When I read you
When I write you,
Feel your uncontrollable tide
Such emotion and devotion
Gathers deep and way inside,
Transfiguration happens,
Velvet voyage,
To a more spiritual state,
No longer do I feel deprived
Of all the love and emotion,
That no one ever really satisfied,
My sea of loneliness, demystified,
I travel, longingly, to your side,
My deepest Love,
Life of my life.
Similar Posts
We need to detach
From time to time,From cruel realityIt should not be ourOnly homeDream a little,Live and loveLike the RoseWhen detached,From its thornsLife is too shortFor trivialities,What you love,You should own.
Seems like an Eternity,
Upside down cakes for the ride,Bon Voyage, dear ‘Ship of Fools’.
The musicality of verse,
I embrace it,It sooths and consoles me,Like a wind, blowing fantasyThru sound,Surrounding me all around,Inciting me to believeThat there are certain sounds,That time can never drown.
Our Country, Our Life,
A yellow pudding,Of Cowards, gone numb!When did we lose,Our honor, our pride?Our virginity, the candor,And obeyed All who Lied!
A poet knows what a poet knows,
The love that in his poem flows,Must have a Universal pose,As towards the ideal Stars, he flows.
Sometimes,
Holds you, like in a trance,And All, the held back feelingsCome tumbling out, All at OnceAnd you can’t stop the avalanche,The waterfall of sentiments and words,That so emotionally disturb and chant.And behold! the poem is born and lives,Reflecting all the mystery and force,That Life to Poetry gives.
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
You feed the soul,
Accompany,
Who cries alone.
Of all you speak
And feel it All
Most lower instincts
In us, you stall,
How not to be in love with you?
When Love you write,
And are love, too.
Similar Posts
I must confess,
It’s my religion, my love, my ecstasy,Like a mystic of old antiquity,I pray thru poems, poets and Poetry,I live in a world of pure and fantastic fantasy,A world of the Absurd where with one word,I can do Anything or go Anywhere,That word is Love,It embraces Everything,The World should be made Of,That is my confession,My magnificent…
Still trying to explain,
There are loves born at first sight,Others come with slow delight.But the love I have for you,Never has to be renewed,It’s so mine, I can’t see thru,The romantic, ideal view,That makes you seem like a dream,Everyday, it’s stronger too,Unexplainably supreme,Of my life, the lasting theme.
Love oh Love
That appearsWithout beingCalled,As does the Sun,Illuminating all.
Poetry,
To whom, you just can’t sayGo away, get lostCome back another day,It just doesn’t work that way,Imperatively, they must be writtenFor the poet’s survivalAnd the poem’s, birth day
Tortured by the Past,
Time passes so fast,It’s then that we realize,That every day we’ve had,Was a precious present…
Poetry is Freedom,
Use it then with wisdom,To show others the way.
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
But not for everyone,
I cannot really tell you
What it takes to be a fan,
But a certain luminosity
And a dose of great sincerity
Wants to be passed on,
Friendliness and Blessings
That a poem leaves behind,
Are like divine, heavenly colors
That, so well, the spirit understands,
In conjunction with the mind,
And that speak to you and sooth you,
As no other form of language really can.
Similar Posts
To all I ask,
Who is true?Get the mirrorLook at you,Hold onMaybe just a few,Or maybe None,Now the question’s done.
Of Vice and Men.
There is so much to say,The same old song,Man’s got it wrong,He cannot find his way.The Conquering Lie,Time does defy,We’re all caught in the Web,No matter how the people try,They’ll never get ahead.The Tribal Chief,Promotes our grief,Democracy defies,Unjustly does he hide the Truth,To better, Tyrannize.Man’s History, a mystery,Of fiction and of lies,Of Demagogues, and Red-eyed…
To see, to live
Sensations, graspedFrom Life’s strange,Mysterious journey,Trying to uncomplicate,Dissect, impressionsBurning, to be told,That’s what the poetTries to do,And then thru PoetryIt’s gifted on to you.
Do not sever,
Individual creationsThat better lives!Put them intoCreativity,Translate themInto UniversalInsights,And seed far reachingClouds,With love and passion,UnderstandingAdd True compassion,Host the LightOf what isBest in usAnd above allDo what’s rightIn a mostHumanly fashionNot abusing power,In any case,Or trampling onThe Peoples’ Rights!
Poet-teacher, Teacher-poet,
Show it!How transparent is the glassOf wisdom, goodness,Write it,Teach it,Have them know it,How to avoid falsehood,Be the living guide,To purity and beauty,Truth always by your side.
One cannot be
Nor change the feelingsThat one’s got,And if they’re differentFrom the restAlone you’ll beAnd for the best,In your sweet,Individual nest.
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
Molds together
Truth and feelings,
Imagination,
Inspiration
Plus observation
And then,
Creates
Language miracles
That go
So much further,
Fantastic creations,
Heart incantations,
Hallucinations,
Worded beauty
And fascination
That sometimes
Can produce,
The most,
Unimaginable,
Sensations.
Similar Posts
Poetry,
Freedom of space,Of mind, Of spirit,Embracing, Grace,Happiness, placedAll of Life in it.
Some poets live
Where Poetry,Is!Exists,Only to be lovedAnd shared,As a heart-throbbingMiracleOf It!Happy is the poetThat, becauseOf this fulfillingInextinguishable,Pure love,Is never reallyAlone,And only livesTo adore,The beauty of..Poetry’s living soul.
Art is pleasure
It’s the nectarOf a Rose,Nature’s dreamAs Beauty goes.Art’s the proofWe have a soul,That can touchSo many othersAnd like Love,It makes us whole.
We are,
Never to be seen again,Nothing, ever lastsNor us, nor we, nor themOnce the die is castAnd Life is on its way,There is no turning backTill our final day,But how we miss our Past!The once lived, happy days,For some, yet not for all,Those days, those yearsThat won’t come back,Like first Roses of MayLike Love that’s gone…
What does instill within our minds?
Why do we always want to know?The essential things, that do not show.
She is the One,
And taken so much farther,What in this cold world would we be?Without our guiding mother,Her love and care like no one else,Does make her, like no other.
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
Regardless of
Ruthless times
And sadness had,
Please bring out,
The very best in us
The Love, the Goodness
The Beauty, the Truth
The Wisdom,
We are supposed to have,
The humanity we’ve lost,
Along the way
And never again found,
Bless us with your music
Heaven bound,
Give us the Peace,
That we were meant to have
Make us whole again
As we were meant to be,
Please,
Long Live Poetry!
Similar Posts
You’ve become so much a part of me,
Our ideas, words, personality,Seem to blend right at the heart.Yes, I keep you very safely,In my being, in my soul,For Love isn’t only physical,It’s a Miracle, that’s all.
Splendor in the Grass
To and Fro, Hither and Thither,The Present is alwaysWorse than the Past.Danger always, up ahead,Tyranny, shows it’s ugly head,Bad planning, Country bled,Can’t contain the tears,The yesteryears of song and fun,Are now forgotten, gone and doneWhat lies ahead, is no sweet song,For now, what’s right, Before was wrong!
I am sick of killings and death,
‘Macbeth hath murdered sleep forever’Blood for Power, Power thru blood,Can’t They leave us aloneIn our personal Sod?I’m sick of killings,And sick of false words,Man is the only animal,That murders his own Herds.
We are so alone,
In the magnitudeAnd vastness,Of an infinitely largeUniverse,Gazing at the starry sky,Not really knowingWhere to go,Lost in the wilderness of timeAs the rustling trees around usSoftly whisper,Why? ,Why am I here?And why must I liveTo die?
God Bless he,
A moment stopped,And Beauty trapped,Captured forever,By its Lenses.
An outstretched hand,
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…
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
Another place
Generally,
Full of Love,
Beauty and Grace.
Similar Posts
From the infinitely small
Poetry does endlessly climb.
These are harsh times,
Difficult times,And all I’ve got to fight with,Are a couple of stupid Rhymes,It’s not fair!
If we were born knowing
And had nothing to learn,All would be so boringLike butter being churned.
Pain,
That does not start,When Love is gone,Happiness too,So hard to find,A Love all Yours,And when it’s gone,Closed are all doors.
The essence of the essential,
It can capture in a few words,All the sadness, all the bliss.All the Love that does exist.
You can’t teach inspiration,
There are certain Mysteries,Whose secrets, no one knows.
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
And shared,
It gives,
Such pleasure
To communicate,
This way!
Have ideas,
Share ideas
Maybe even
Have some stay,
And change
A grain of salt,
For the better,
Maybe?
A little,
Day by Day.
Similar Posts
A Poet lives
A Blue SkyIs by eye, illusion.Inspiration and IllusionMake best poemsPossible,Poets out thereDay by day,Always searchAnd want to share,This magic fusion.
How easy it is, tricking others,
But take pity on those who tryTo prove those lies are not true!Or try to stop their ascension to power.Scaling up, upon the walls of time,Sadly, the inevitable ivy climbsAnd so do non truths,Invested in promoting scandal’s delugeBenefiting those who seek Power,To put it to bad use,And commit all sorts of atrocities,From their political Tower.
I ask for nothing,
And hold your hand,And look into the endless love,In your eyes,And know you understand.
Can hate ever disappear?
Of new love, crystal clear,Can hate ever go away?So we can live our short lives,The right way.I don’t lose hope,Birds of different feathers,Can fly together,Peace!
Good Writers,
People, who haveSomething to say,To embellish, enrichMake life better,As we try to clearSo many inconvenientPainful moments,That get in our way.No true writer,Nor so called human beingShould incite hateOr wrong doing!Although, unfortunatelyThere are so manyIn politics who follow,That ignominious path,Today!Those who inciteViolence,Create it to getAhead,Will sooner or lateBe discoveredIn the disintegratingDust and harm,They leave behind,As their…
Is there in every poet,
Of incipient insanity,Because they write,And think so much.
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
That ever was,
Pure feelings,
Inner healings,
That, And more,
Poetry does.
Similar Posts
God,
We know both,But we,As with AllWe touch,Try to destroyGood!That should be honoredAnd loved, so much!
Fine linens and White sheets,
Beauty is now in retreat,Seems sex ghoulsHave taken over,All the romantic-sweetnessOf Love,It’s overOver and out.Oh how I miss,Those white cliffsOf Dover,And the salty whiteFoam of the SeaThat never againWhite pure will be,As even tears will loseTheir meaning and transparency!As Purity of White is murdered,Taken away forever from humanity.
Would you care to love me?
You know your choice is lovely,Whatever it may be.But if you chose to love me,Intensely and totally,Our days will be like flowers,That bloom incessantly.
Like some magic potion
Poetry takes youBy the hand,Calming your sorrowsHiding your fear,Spreading love,Wiping away,That lonely tear.
Love, resurrection for the soul,
A hand held with grace,Can and says it All.
Yes, A good Poet is
And as long as heartAnd language exist,A source of joy, love and peace,No favoritism intended,But good PoetryCan also beA life’s new lease.
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
Full of melodious leaves,
Sea, Sun, Sky,
Clouds dreaming by.
River waters,
Pregnant with words,
Feeding the Earth,
Flowing the mind.
Guidance, motherly touch,
Flowered Fields,
That we love so much,
Ancient vineyards, reddest wine,
Poetry,
Heart of hearts,
Where life starts,
Eternal love of mine.
Similar Posts
I’m sensitive to words,
Silences don’t set well,Language is a quenching well,Where the waters of sentiment flow,Where intelligence can glow,It has brought us forth from darkness,To the embracement of civilization,From the Stone Age,Made us into great Nations,Do not let this Light,Be buried in the damnation,Of the barbarous, savage throws,Of incomprehension, that knows,No civilized orientation.Intelligence and Language,Plus human feelings,Of compassion…
I have no one with whom to share,
My likes, dislikes, my doubts, my cares,The few I know, they just don’t care.Along the Riverside, I walk,Preferring, mainly not to talk,Ideas that ponder in my head,Yet, Silently I go ahead.Alone, beyond all human reach,Nothing to learn, nothing to teach,A Cold Wind blows just up ahead,As Silence folds its empty head.
I Love poems
That lift you upAnd so much more!Their free elixir,Is written gold,Sensitive, lovingPiercing, and boldIt’s not the words written,Nor the adjectives, usedIt’s the feelings, givenWith Love, transfused.
Poetry creates mood,
Feelings speakTo the Soul,Poetry,Makes us human,Despite, allOur bad calls,Purifying, FireFrom One to All.
The here and now are Nothing,
Our Hearts will be together,As our Love Forever mounts.
To love and not to have,
There is no sadder love,Than one you have to hide.To love and to have not,In pain have to decide,If life was just a game,Not really worth the ride.
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
Of presenting and judging,
Itself!
Without the necessity
Of wearing a hood,
When it’s good
It’s unforgettable
When it’s bad,
It’s just horrid!
Similar Posts
Life’s music is playing,
Myriad of ideas swaying,But you, you left too soon.And I don’t knowWhere to find you,And I don’t know where to goNor how I’m going to go onWith love’s pain,That hurts me so.In life,You may lose everythingBut when love falls apart,There is no consolationFor a shattered, broken heart.Each day when I awaken,I think you might returnBut…
Everything seems to be
Up-and-down and even sidewaysAre the paths to hell,Paved, with good intentions,But there aren’t evenGood intentions, today.Up and down and all aroundThe Devil is dancingIn a perverse wayRecruiting followers,Burning ships on his wayBrainwashing, idiotsThat have nothing to sayBut they help lightThe fires from Hell,Hell’s firesThat once startedWill burn, the little leftThat’s good and decentLeaving us orphaned,And…
What will happen,
Nothing,My heart will break,And I’ll Silently go away.
The World is on the bend,
But lack of Liberty,Is always Tragedy.
The Ivory World,
The Keys, melodies,Emotions abound,A language that speaks,Alone to the Soul,Of feelings so deep,That you can’t control,A Titanic feat,The fingers complete,The sounds are unique,No words are now needed,The melodies speak.
Heal us,
Of Love’s wounds,The sentimental bandage.
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
Wants to escape reality
Thru images, metaphors
And dreamlike incisions
That carry us away,
With marvelous visions,
While at the same
Time, facing and
Born from,
Reality, Itself,
And that is why
It creates that
Indescribable Feeling,
As deep and mysterious
As Life, itself.
Similar Posts
We hide behind
Knowing very wellThey are ephemeral,Are we cowards, blindOr fools supremeWalking in the fogOf Life.
As the rivers flow to oceans,
Reminiscing in my silence,Comes the need to think aloud,And what better than a poem,That becomes a traveling cloud,With past thoughts and inner feelings,Where deep memories are allowed.Poem, friend that wakes my silence,Takes me gently by the hand,Helps me write a Sea of Feelings,All my world it understands.
In ‘politics’ what really counts are Lies,
As if we had no brains, no ears, no eyes.
JUSTICE!
A beautiful word,That could bring together,This suffering World.JUSTICE,So true and so clear,But so far away,When we think it’s so near.
Before,
Wrote poetry,Harnessing lightening,Spiritually,Now people getTatous,As self-expression,Painting and writingOn themselvesAs dear possession,Seems to meThat, that must beA very strange,Painful, obsession.
Hate brings on more Hate,
Humanity’s shameful slate!Used as miserable bait,Just to dominate.
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
Error,
Of the mind
That lifts us
Off the ground,
Flying high,
Never better
Than when,
Right poem
Found.
Similar Posts
As the breeze begins to tumble,
And the rivers regain motion,For they know the Sea is there,So do I, flowing emotion,Let my heart intensely care,For this Love in constant motion,That goes with me everywhere.For I love you more than ever,Now, forever. always will,And this flowing deep emotion,In me, Never will be still!< br>.
Some of us,
Hoping, soOur poetic idealismWill come true,But it never does,Does it?Even, LoveSometimes,Escapes us, too.
I look for your spirit,
In the veins of the Planet,Which are rivers that go to the Sea,In the thorn of a dying Rose,Painfully.I look for your words,In the dying clouds of dusk,Before night falls,They are the last light of my dayThey mean so much to me,They give me life,They give me dreams,Opening a whole New World,Of total Ecstasy!
Tonight,
A poem that’s all white,No colors,Just plain White,The purity of flight,The purity of sight,The purity of height,Eternal Snows,Mountain white.White peace,White light,White Dove,Olive branch,Of Love.Upon a crystal lake,A Swan starts to awake,It’s whiteness gently glides,Like tears from saddened eyes,A foggy, white wind blows,The Swan, white beauty flows.You are my dream in White,Symphonic, great delight,My Life that…
Are Laurel and Hardy around?
TV channels with the telephone,Wondering why oh why, can’t I,Everything now is upside down,I too, can crazy things try?Maybe one day,Even run for ‘President’I’m sure I will qualify.
Who knows, what nobody knows,
Who perfumes the rose?A great Spanish poet wrote:‘Only Mystery makes us live,Only Mystery’,But we still are,Lovers of History,And want to know,What nobody knows,Why are we here,And what makes us go?In search of the TruthsThat we’ll never know…….
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
Sentimental beauty
That nothing else
Has,
When the divine sincerity
Of Purity,
Magically touches
Poetry’s loving branches,
Its unfolded arms
Can easily,
Reach and touch,
The Sky.
Similar Posts
I’ve seen a sunset
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.
Everything,
Peaches and CreamBut at least,Be gratefulAnd enjoyThe good moments,Count your blessingsBe grateful,There are so manyLess fortunateWithout any loveAt all,Or even tiny dreams.
Our Country, Our Life,
A yellow pudding,Of Cowards, gone numb!When did we lose,Our honor, our pride?Our virginity, the candor,And obeyed All who Lied!
Some poets live
Where Poetry,Is!Exists,Only to be lovedAnd shared,As a heart-throbbingMiracleOf It!Happy is the poetThat, becauseOf this fulfillingInextinguishable,Pure love,Is never reallyAlone,And only livesTo adore,The beauty of..Poetry’s living soul.
Love is my religion,
And it is the vision,Of our earthly peace.If you Love me always,Then, I’ll be at peace,But without you, dearest,Pain will never, cease.Love is my religion,Prayers are newly found,But I am so lonely,If you’re not around.Love is my religion,Poetry, my soul,Music, is completionBrings together, AllLove, music, creation,Summit, Elevation,Purity, doth speak,Deeply, in my religion,As Love with emotion,Reaches…
Poetry,
A waste of Time,Probably,Won’t bring in a dime,BUT!The immense satisfactionThat some poems give,Is worth so much!That moment of ecstasy,That with a certain poemYou, may live,Has an unforgettable,Magic touch!
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
Of new born Roses
Surrounds thee,
As you surround my soul
With new born visions
Of poetic benedictions
Beneath,
Love’s magic fertile tree
Of creativity
I live but
For your call,
Or not at all.
Similar Posts
If only it were possible,
All the music of the Universe,In one only verse,What would it say?What would it be like?If it were possible,I think I might die of fright,At the power of the mind.But wishes, so often remain wishes,‘A miraculous Verse, never written’,Only wished in the mind.
Poems can make you happy,
Poems can even sometimes,Make you very mad,But oh, how they are fulfilling,Like no other read can be,Never underestimate a poem,They have the immortal power,To make of Liberty, a tower,And forever set you free.
Far beyond,
Oh Endless sea!You and meFar reaching,Castles in the sandOf blue toned fantasies,Ever changing, ever youngMysterious silent filter,Where all life has onceBegun.Since forever, you inspireDreams of emerald fantasiesSailing, sailingDeep blue waters,Inspiration, blue translationInto waves of poetry.
I am fabricating buttons,
They will say ‘US is Shoddy’,Over here you’re just Nobody,Finished, ‘au revoir’ Finito.
When rot speaks,
I can no longer stand,Those political groans,The lies and the assumption,That we are all Fools,Being taken over,By a bunch of slimy Ghouls.
More than
It’s the feelingsThere infusedThat in the Poem,Count.Being able to communicateThru abstraction, feelingsWithout being, face to faceBut thru some mysteriousAnd supernatural, graceThat seems to naturally comeTo the poet, as the poemTakes shape and space,Becomes, alive!Communicates,Its inner lifeWith no mistakes.A divine and inseparableConception of Love,A marvelous World ofAbstraction,Where the most intimateFeelings take place,Anchoring sensationsAnd satisfaction,Like nothing elseThat…
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
You love it madly
Or not at all.
It’s like being
Forever, enamored,
With Life’s Song,
That you carry
Forever.
In the innermost
Part of your Soul.
Similar Posts
After all these years,
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.
To be lost in a clouded world of thought,
No today and no tomorrow,Nada,No memories to speak of,Just numbness and gray rain,Nothing to lose,And Nothing to gain.
Happy Birthday, Liberty ‘Belle’
Yet still looking very well.You’re one hundred and twenty nine,And as beautiful as ever,Liberty, beauty sublime,May you’re light forever shine,As a Blessing for this Nation,Precious torch of Liberty,Guarded by each generation.
To be grateful is a virtue,
Give credit where credit is due,A grateful child is a blessing,A fountain of love and of pride,A consoling, sustaining pillarA joy parents cannot hide.
Las Almas que se buscan
cansadas de tanta,Soledad,Una Estrellade luz puraLas guia,Tal vez,hacia el amorQue es, la unicafelicidad.SolitudeThe souls that nightlyTravel in the darkness,Tired of their solitudeAnd fright,The light,Of a white starPerhaps,Does guide themTowards love,That holds the keyTo happiness,And pride.
Love to love the light of day,
You’re the one, what more to say?Bless, the day you came my way.
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
In sometimes,
So very little space
But when good
Heaven,
Never goes to waste.
Similar Posts
How and Why
A poet?You’re guessIs as goodAs mine,All I knowIs that,At momentsThe non-materialisticSatisfaction,Is more thanSublime!
One step away from song
Long on feelings,SentimentsLong on LoveWhich it sings best.The summit of feelingCannot be expressed,In simple words,Poems are there,To say them first.Where words becomeA sweet caressAnd feelings flutterAt their best.
I have looked for you Forever,
And the sound of ‘Never, Never’,Seems to always seal my fate.I had dreamt of you so often,Love complete and full of grace,I had loved you as a Secret,Never having seen your face.The Ideal we fall in love with,Is sometimes a desperate case,Not responding, corresponding,To our mental, warm embrace.Yet, I’ll not betray you ever,And this Love…
For the love of words
Paradise itself!That isIf ParadiseEven exists,In the name of the SpiritAs Love,Continually, we are toldCo-ExistsWith all sorts of Myths.For the love of words,Hours spentIn literary mists,Cool and comfortable,Where a sort ofTelepathy existsWith other Worlds,Creating a rumbleOf satisfactory,Bliss!Is it sinful to persistIn loving soundsThat co-existWith imagery?Sounds and SymbolsAbstract feelingsDeeply embraceAs language recuperatesFeelings, skyward bound,Coming aroundConcealing nothingAnd so,Connecting…
‘If you are,
There can be no jealousy’Two poets discuss their merit,Knowing they can bear it!
Thoughts and Feelings
Exclusively,A human gameFor which no one can trainWhich makes us think seriouslyThat no two of us, are really,Ever, just the same.
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
A waste of Time,
Probably,
Won’t bring in a dime,
BUT!
The immense satisfaction
That some poems give,
Is worth so much!
That moment of ecstasy,
That with a certain poem
You, may live,
Has an unforgettable,
Magic touch!
Similar Posts
Truth never grows old,
So many times,Goes untold,Pity!
How much can the Oak tree take?
Trees still standing, they do die,But we poor mortals, we just cry.
Poets share
Like busy beesThey make honeyOut of words,SometimesBut never money.Just as well!A poet’s thoughts,Cannot be boughtNor would theyEver have a productThat even,Shopping foolsWould buy for money.
We are creatures of emotion,
But of all emotions we are feeling,Love may be the most appealing,So feel, feel, feel,And enjoy,The most fulfilling healing.
Eating Healthy is now the rage,
This is what you’ve got to do,Stop indulging on that plate,Of politically correct, obnoxious stew
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
We cannot see
The loves just dreamt,
But fancy free
The World on fire,
Passionately,
Romantic-Symbolism,
Traversing Time
So endlessly
Emotional Earthquake,
To senses and soul
Like nothing else,
Can ever Be!
Similar Posts
Art is pleasure
It’s the nectarOf a Rose,Nature’s dreamAs Beauty goes.Art’s the proofWe have a soul,That can touchSo many othersAnd like Love,It makes us whole.
Most people are not affectionate,
It hurts to see,How cold and unstimulating,Most of ‘inhumanity’ can be.
We love to share our poems
The story is very simple,Love is the poets’ call.
Man,
Or toss him,Serpent, Apple, or notWe’re a terrible lot,In our bloody History,Past and Present,The best example,We’ve Got.
When I feel down and worried,
The answers don’t come easy,I always wonder, Why?All Mysteries are heavy,The load a vital Pain,And sometimes I just worry,That Life is all in vain
To have the pleasure of your thoughts,
You communicate a world so free,A world where we all,Sometimes want to be,Where Love is a Tower,And Peace can flower,Because that is what is Poetry.
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
You feel, you write it,
All, no parts
Nothing ever stays inside,
A poem is a one way ride,
With truth and beauty,
At its side.
Similar Posts
I want to be good
Says man in every landAnd I hunt and I kill,So often, at willCausing pain and chagrinUsing Evil as thrill,Causing mistrust and chill,Bitter footprints in the sand.Of what nature do we comeThat we’re stillSuch rotten scum,After millions we have killed?I cannot understandThat the HandThat’s used to saveIs the HandThat could somedayAlso be used, to kill…..
Some,
Are all aloneWhat can they do?They have no home,The oyster has its shellBut without its Pearl,It is also alone,In the quite mistOf all that salt and foam.
Poems are not happy,
They are poignantly sad,Life is also, painfully sad.Happiness,A greeting Card,That can be had,Perhaps?For one fleeting momentThat Never lasts.
I have seen the image of your grace,
Where Love lives without a face,An abstraction, a sensation,An ideal, a fascination.Long have tried to identify,This of All, strongest emotions,Difficult to quantify,To describe, abstract devotions.Love, is more than just affection,Secret life, all of its own,Thru love we attain perfection,Sometimes even lose our soul,Blending into one another,Heart to heart and soul to soul,In this world of…
Lovely softness,
Never do we have enoughOf the tenderness of love,Smooth, white feathers of a dove,That should never fly away,But forever inside stay.Love can save and also healBe uplifting, be the seal,Of perpetual happiness,Of a life without regrets.
Poetry can transport you
To a land where loveFits like a glove,Where you’ll also findAll kinds of thingsThat poets sayDream with us!Imagination, never delayed,Originality, differentWorlds, roles played,Are some of the thingsTraveling poems haveAnd say,PlusFree transportation,All the waySo please don’t missThe moving blissOf Poetry’s,I insist,Rapid Transit Train.
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
That is simply so unique,
The way it stresses, feelings, words
Not sold at any boutique.
Poetry, cradles feeling,
As if it were her child,
And makes us go into Beauty’s throw,
With the strokes of some words,
With a movement, not blurred,
Of a pen, a heart and of Life.
Similar Posts
Some write poetry,
But the worst ones of allAre those that ask, Why?
If you go,
I’ll become the cold Wind, shrinking to a sigh,I will fold up like a handkerchief’s goodbyeIf you go, if you leave me, I’ll just Die.If you go,Who will share my simple verse?Who will travel thru my Universe?Who will calm my everlasting thirst?Who will heal my dreams and my tears, dry?If you go.
Once we are totally robotized,
Will evil still persist,Will Poetry be criminalized?As being too personalized,By that free, ‘subversive’ twist.
Poets feel things,
And know thingsThat others don’t,Poetry is not a mockeryOf Time,Nor does it belongIn the PastPoetry is always,A Present fightAnd a Revolution,Against evil,And unfair abuse,It isFor peace and truthThat poets write.
Be aware that,
Is unfairSo make sureYou check your chairBefore sitting on it,Take care.
Today,
Admired and desired,The artist seeks his placeIn a World so cold and uninspiredIt’s a slow and difficult raceDisorientation,Is generally the bitter case.
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
That you have with yourself,
An intimate conversation,
A Love deliberation,
More than words,
Music, feeling, sensation.
Similar Posts
Poems are impressions,
Deeply felt and so expressedThat they, cannot be wrong.Poems are impressionsPainting inner sight,Deepest soul confessionsReaching for the Light.
Each bird is different,
Different colorsThat enthrall,That is what keeps us,In admirationBeing softly fascinatedDelicately infatuatedAnd loving them All.
And the pain,
That in vain,Floods my heart,And the tears of the Past,Guide my ship and my mast,And the mystery Train,That has come here at last,It will take me away,To the Sea of my past,Where the Seagulls display,Their eternal ballet,As they screamingly say,Love and dreams do not last.
Poetry is the master.
But who would not drown?Happily,In her fantastic waves.
Happy Birthday, Liberty ‘Belle’
Yet still looking very well.You’re one hundred and twenty nine,And as beautiful as ever,Liberty, beauty sublime,May you’re light forever shine,As a Blessing for this Nation,Precious torch of Liberty,Guarded by each generation.
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
Can also give a tear,
But best of all,
It makes you feel,
That human warmth is real.
Similar Posts
As thoughts
We learn from themAnd try to unconfuseThe mind, make clearSo, thus we cheer,Learning,The greatest friend we have,The inner lightThat melts awayThe darkness and most fears.
Into the music,
Mysterious sensations,Words that can’t be said,Enjoying every moment,Musically wed.
Oh, the bliss
Of truest love,The most sincereThe one poetsKeep dreaming of,Going thru lifeWithout thisIs probably,Our greatest miss.
In the world of verse,
Are KingsWaiting for Inspiration,To complete the circleThat gives PoetryIts mighty wings.
Blessed are the very Few,
As a drop of dew,Who in their hearts can cultivate,The Red, Red, Rose that fascinates.Those, who teach us how to Love,And thru this Love, can shatter hate!
Like a miracle,
Poetry can recreateAnd transmit feelings.Something,That nothing elseCan do,A veritable and sincere,ConspiracyBetween the poet and you.
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
That make you think.
Poets are not only,
Paper and Ink.
Similar Posts
Is there Anyone,
That has been so beautifully composed?Yes, the One you Love.
Shameful contrast,
What is created is destroyedSo oftenBy men without a heart.
Silence hurts,
It can’t be cut out or eliminated,It just stagnates,In thin smoky-grey cloudsThat don’t rain or alleviate,The sadness it shouts out.,
Talent can’t be stopped,
Express itself,Like a Rose must bloom,To give birth,And spread its own perfume,So, the artist works with his inner loom,Intricate fabrics, mysterious call,Come together, forming something,That sometimes says it All,That sweeps you away,In an unforgettable waterfall.
Happiness, Sadness
In well written poemsOf human esteem.Nothing communicates,Like poetic verseNor is as far reachingAnd velvety terse.
Reality,
Difficult to faceHowever,We know the Truth,That Time, Life does eraseAnd turns everything to nothing,Even our most intimate, secret moments,Are of Time, a perfect waste.
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
reflect love’s bright
refulgence
otherwise
it dries and dies
a personal
indulgence
Similar Posts
Icarus
throughout historyas some sort of moral metaphorfor a man who challengedIntelligent Designand/or the godsand failed, in a narrow-minded viewA young man’s ambitionand perhaps devotiondrew him towards the heavenswhy notand science had not developed very farso how was he to knowexcept by experimentI’d like to think that as he droppedout of a cloudless Greek skyout of…
You never did
so there’s no point nowgoing over all thatall you want to doall you’ve got time foris to open your armseyes heart etcto everything,everyonehoping not too many peoplelaugh or make itdifficult for youstanding bemusedwith open armson the traffic islandby the crossroad
The names go first. That’s not
are younger.. psychologists say(how discomforted this couch, Professor Freud..)it’s sheer selfishness; we don’t want our friendsto know our other friends..The names go first. One learns the dodges –‘You’ll all know each other, of course…’;names, they’re nouns; so how far will it go?how well can I live well, when without nouns?Spirit lives in all things; the…
Before they set out, met
they knew their tasks, their giftsto those whose very language, metaphor:three gifts to speak of soul’s eternal lifeabout to be refreshed in human life:gold for the soul’s first task,resplendent in reflection of All that’s divine;frankincense, for the soul’s gift to surveyAll above and all below as One;myrrh, that preserves the state and memoryof the passing…
Their wives were not too keen about it all:
for, if they read the heavens’ portents so well,what need of proof, of presence at the scene?and then, to go without due retinuethrough unforgiving deserts; foreign towns;and forests hiding thieves and wild beasts too?and carrying rich gifts? and worse, their crowns?and so to risk three kingdoms, not just one?and for the sake of some religious…
How George Herbert would have loved this word
The gloried sun of soul, no added lightneeds, in unshadowed light of reason’s day;but in the murky night of ignorance –then reason’s other task, the probing beamupon the dark, cruel cobweb-cornered mindmay shine; and as it clears the willing mind,the sharper (and more seeming painful) thoselast vestiges of age-old, flying thingsthat lurk and creep in…
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
Magic,
Not all poetry.
And we are all
In between the two.
And we merged
In one
That is life.
And life is
With us
To take a new turn.
True to say
No one is single
And fragment
Not possible.
Expression is important
And not the lesson.
Similar Posts
ତୁ ଦାଦନ
ତୁ ଦାଦନ,ଫିଟା ନି ପାଟିରହି ଥାପୂରା ଚୁପ୍!ତୁ ଦାଦନ,ତୋ ଉପରେଦୟା ଦେଖାଇରଖିଛୁଁ ଏଠିରହି ଥାପୂରା ଚୁପ୍!ତୁ ଦାଦନଦିଆ ଯାଉଛିଯାହା ଯେତେଖା।ଫିଟା ନା ପାଟିରହ ପୂରା ଚୁପ୍!ତୁ ଦାଦନଆମକୁ ଜଣାତୋ ଔକାତ୍।ଆମେ ଓଏଏସ୍ଶୁଣ୍ ଆମ ବାତ୍।ତୁ ଦାଦନଦେବୁ ଯାହା ଯେତେନେ,ମାଗ୍ ନାପାଣିଯା ନା କୁଆଡେ!ତୁ ଦାଦନମଣିଷରେଗଣୁ ନା ତତେ!କଣ କରିବୁରେ?ତପୋବନ,ଟିଟିଲାଗଡ, ବଲାଙ୍ଗୀର13/05/2020
Give me vote
Enjoy women as you like.Give me voteI am here to buildThe place of worshipAs you like,I am here to supplyFree internet.Give me voteAnd eat rice freely.No need to work,But give me voteAnd stay within the wall,I am going to buildFor you and sureI am to isolate you.I care not anyone,But my dear voter,I care only…
So small and soft
And sweet, you Raspberry.Thanks a lot toAlmighty creator.Trip with you isVery very pleasant.Raspberry, I am afraidNo one rightly able toRecognise you.Ravenous I amWhile looking at youAllow me for aRave review.
Let me hear you more and more,
About you from you in you.
Change of guards,
Change of life itself.Pre-truth, post-truth,I habit for you.For youI discard fake news.No confusion, please,But stay there where you areFor the very real-time.Time is really far-reaching,Fall short time.And time is life itself,With the fear of the self.
देख मोरआडे घाए
देख मोरआडे घाएआरु बुझ मके ।मुइकें तमरटा नेइसे!एतकिबेलकेकेतनिकेते कें केंटाबदलि बदलि जउछे ।जानुछ कि नेइ जानुछनेइ जना काहाके!देख मोरआडकेमुइ तुमरटा आएगुटामुटा एतकिबेलके ।कहेबार काणा अछे काहाके?
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
a magic, field–like the space
between a sleepwalker’s outheld arms!
Similar Posts
I’m charmed yet chagrined by this misunderstanding–
Boarded up, billboarded over, with ads for wind-insurance.Similarly, swimmingly, I miss the point. You too?And my misunderstanding doesn’t stop there, it grows–soonI can’t see why that sudden influx of fugitives,All the world’s escapees, rubbing themselves lasciviously against theBerlin Wall.They stick like placards to it. Like napalm. Like ads for–And me, I haven’t even bought my…
Always your face like a space
Empties its mote of closeup traceDown screens that blink blank blipSomewhere between countdownAnd coma time is a lineWhere waking centuries oftenDrained against that measure we findOur blood redshifts (direction: west)Until film can clone one sunWith stars both whole and goneAttending every sequelWe pray for an intent equalTo our interest
Like all children, you were a de facto
Believing nothing but what you could seeOr touch or whatever sense led act toFruition: mudpies made summer beneathA tree whose measured shade endowed decreesBetween light and dark: such hierarchiesGave you implicit, a sophistic faith–(Fallacious fellowship!)’Youth’s adherentsIgnore the fact that most factions rejectTheir lyric league (which only fools have stayedStriplings of) and none condone its nonsense:No-one…
Who whispers here is forgotten.
adorns the stones,words ripening your mouthto a spoilationof silence.Who speaks herereads a text that downloadsthe screen of his fingernail,through which nothing’s visibleas glass is.For the memorialwe must kneelto pick each flowerfrom amongst its modifiers:but to do thatone needs a hand baredof all uses, of all trades:as ours is not.
I am a modest house, a house solely
Its brass plaque depicts an oxygen eyein which two pupils of hydrogen dance.Downstairs is where I lit fires whose insightswith approach-velocity froze me, thensinged off into flame. This always happened whenI came close to a truth. Months passed. Years. Nights.Shall I accommodate myself again,a humble aquarium of lordlythumbs, some fin de species? Of course each…
By a swath of inks the eye
which alter with the watercolorway his brush washes its dyein distance, though even thisfinds a faraway fixed notby the surveyor’s plumb butby the action of the thumbdelaying all the fingers meantto draw out of the paper,splashed dry. The clean graincatches what it should retainif enough pressure pleasureis applied to the stain to lie.Note: Tomlinson is…
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
Poetry for what,
What the philosophy of it,
What it to give to man?
The philosophy of poetry,
What to say,
How to say it,
Poetry is philosophy,
Philosophy poetry?
The poet a philosopher
And the philosopher a poet,
Poetry as visions and dreams,
Thoughts and ideas,
Images and pictures.
The poet a philosopher
And the philosopher a poet,
Poetry is philosophy,
Philosophy poetry,
Everything has but a philosophy
Accept you or not.
Similar Posts
My first point is,
DalitMean it,Dalit,Dalit?The word,Dalit,Dalit meansPada-dalit,Trodden,Foot-trodden,Crushed,Crushed and exploited.Dalit,Dalit meansHave-nots,Have-nots,Poor and weakerSectionsOf society.Dalit,Dalit the exploited,Dalit,Dalit the used one,Dalit,Dalit the tortured selfOf man.
My daughter,
I shall not stay it hereTo see it up,But you will, my daughter,As the daughter of minewhich but they know it notWhose daughter are you not,Your pains and pines and woes,What it troubles youAnd your self,What it hurts and wounds you, my love!
Make I, paint I the beautiful eyes
The retina, the cornea,The eyeballs,The eyelashes, the eyelids,The lenses and the reflection,The eyesight falling upon!But why are the tears into the eyesOf yours, my love,Do you forbid me to sketch an paint them?
In which world,
Miss Selfi?N.B. The art of living
Drink you not,
Shall I say to youAsking you not to drinkDaru,Wine,Liquor,Ale?
Talaq,
And the divorcedCan feel itAnd none the else,Politicize you it not.
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
Tracts and domains
With topography
Of the wild and Nature
And population scattered over
And with global positioning system
Tracked and untracked
Telling about location
And the unlocated indescribable.
The fields and fallows full of solitude,
The wild with eerie silence,
Nature calm and in furies,
The hills, dales and vales,
The woodlands touching the canopies
Of the sky
And dense and deep.
Similar Posts
The CPI(M) actually keep playing with politics,
Under the surveillanceOf the Local committee, Zonal CommitteeAnd the District committee secretariesand membersAfter making party officesOn vested landsAnd subscriptions and donations.To hand the power over to the proletariatAnd the leadership to the bourgeoisAnd to mould and distort pubic opinionThe job of the communists,The comrades in bonhomieAnd the cadres regiment and levied,Oh, the belligerent and blatant…
Kashmir, Kashmir,
Barring politics?India’s interest,Pakistan’s interest,China’s interest,All interests colliding.But if Kashmir is of ll,Why will the pundits be exterminated,Why will Kashmiri pundits?I am happy that Ladakh is free,Justice has been done withShould have been earlier.Ladakh is a Buddhist landWe must respect the sentimentsOf the people.Why talk you about Indian Kashmir,Talk you about Pakistani Kashmir too?Indian Kashmir,Azad Kashmir,But…
Chhau dance rustico-classical
In a masked formWith rhythmic dance, puppetry,Disguise, dialogue,Vault and music,Interesting indeed,Beautiful to seeBhagabati, Mahishashura,Ganesha, Kartikeya,Demons and the lion.
Let me say, said he first,
Let me say, said he, the first person, again hearing it, he, the second person also said, let me say,Again the first party, let me, again the second party, let me,Let me say, again lo, let me say,Let me say, again let me say,Let me finish, he, the second party too saying it, let me…
Culture studies,
Culture studies,Why to study itAnd how can it helpThe students of literature?If the Europeans have an archetypeOf their ownSo have peoples of different climes and locationsWith their own myths and motifs,Indigenous and racialAnd these reflect upon the thought-patternsOf the people,The faith and beliefAs the locale too is importantWhile perusing the cultural history.The linguistic pattern, the…
Annapurna, Dhaulagiri,
The Himalayan ranges and peaks,How to panorama,Scenic sights,Ways, steps and trekkingTo reach and visitAnnapurna, Dhaulagiri,The summits,Landscapes with scenery and sights,Panorama and beauty,Taking to a different domain,Cartography and mapping.What do the names say,DhaulagiriWhich but DhavalgiriIn Sanskrit,Meaning dhaval plus giri,White mountain,Dazzling white, beautiful,Annapurna,Anna, food plus purna, filledIn Sanskrit,The Hindu goddessOf food and nourishment.,Is it that?
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
What is poetry to me,
Sir,
What to say about
If ask you,
How to say?
Poetry,
Poetry to me is
A spectacle of the bhaluwallah,
The bear showman,
The bandarwallah,
I mean the monkey showman,
The juggler,
The sleight of hand of the Indian juggler.
Of yogis, fakirs and sadhakas
And tantrics
Fake and real,
Astrologers, palmists and horoscope-makers
Astrological and astronomical,
Who is what,
I don’t,
Can’t say that,
It is better
To have a tryst with them?
Similar Posts
The houses decorated with
Illuminating and lighting them all,Children doing fireworksWhile they readying for a worshipOf Kali, Dark or Blue Kali.
What is the philosophy of philosophy,
What it may be the philosophy of philosophy?No work to do but to philosophize,Lazily passing time, thinking muchBut doing nothing,Where the philosopher fails thereThe realist succeeds.And say you who is not a philosopher?
A chain in between
The Age of Mysticism And Shadowy AdumbrationAnd the Age of Experimentalism,Gajanan wrote the poetryBifocal poetryOpening the avenues of thought and idea,Widening the spectrum and range of viewingIn the form of giving anti-thesis,Deconstructing to construct,Deforming and distorting to juxtapose,Dovetail imagery.
My digital heart
tickingjust likea machinemy digital heartthat of a robot,the machine man,the iron manfloggingthe horse,catching the vibesand beats,beats and throbsof the town space,city life and culture.My heart the heartOf a robot,the lungs ofa machine man,the heart and beatof an iron maniron-fisted and clenchedwith the bust and torsomade of steel.The iron man,iron manbuilt in structure,but hard of heart,different…
Nanda Devi mountain range,
Of Garhwali Himalayas,Nanda DeviFlaming red,Looking crimson in sunlightAfire,Crimson,Red and glowing,Catching fire,Radiant with the glow,How to take to,Take to and describe?Nanda Devi,Bliss-giving GoddessThe peak named as thus,The protector-goddess of Uttarakhand,The circle of high mountainsSurrounding it,Nanda, SunandaIn Kumaon-GrahwalWith the villagesScattered and littered overBy the lower ranges.Nanda Devi,The highest point,The highest peak,The abode of Nanda,Nanda Devi,The peak glowing,Reddening,Looking…
Blue Whale,
Killing the small children,Claiming innocent lives,What will you,Will you get,Blue Whale?
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
What is poetry for you Dubey
If somebody questions me,
What shall I
Hearing him,
Keeping mum for a moment,
Pausing to respond
And thinking over,
Poetry,
Poetry,
What is poetry
And that to me,
Me?
Poetry to me
Is aesthetic beauty,
Beauty perceivable,
Truth to be realized
And goodness to be appreciated,
Satyam shivam sundaram
From the Indian point of view
As am an Indian
And my viewpoint Sanskritic and Brahminical
Re-voicing,
Shivoaham shivoaham shivoaham.
My discourse one of Atman and Parmatman,
The transmigration of the soul,
The Soul and the Over soul,
Death and maya,
Karma and dharma,
Yama and the dark night
And the flutter of the bird,
Satya, ahimsa and shantih.
Similar Posts
My Love, Oh No, Oh No, Never, Never!
Oh no, oh no,No, no,Never, never,Never, never did I,Did I,Oh no, oh no,Never, neverDid I, did I,Did IThink,Think of separating,Separating fromYou!(For My Brother)I Used To, Used ToI used,Used to,Used to love,Love youSo much,So much,But you now,NowSo far,So farFrom me,From me,Love,So far,So farFrom me!My love,Love,I used,Used to,But you,You now,Far,Far from me,Me!(For my brother)Your PhotographYour photograph,PhotographHangs,Hangs it…
Rahat Indori,
Bahut khashaYahi to aapki bakhubi hai,Hasatei hai aur hasaatei haiKyonki mazak ke bina aapRaha jo shaktei nahi!Rahat Indori,You can make fun of, crack jokes so well,So much in a plentyThis a good feature of yours,Laugh you and make us laughAs without joke, comic, fun and laughterYou cannot help!
O my heart,
Keep you,Hey, keep youSinging,SingingThe song,Song of love,My,My heart,Keep,Keep you,Singing,My heart,Heart!
The inextinguishable lamp
Which but the AtmanJust like the diya,An earthenware, oily and wickedWill go burning.The indivisible human soul,A unit of light,A small lampIt will go burningFor long,Which but will not extinguish,Burn for ever, burn for ever.
Women’s rights,
Or not,What do you say youAbout women’s rights,If not, when will you to themTheir rightsWhich we have been suppressing,Oppressing for longAs they are poor, poor womankind,Weaker womankind?Throttle you not their freedomTheir liberty,Suppress you not,Oppress you not their psycheAs for being women, weaker selves,Dependent fellows?
The world is mine,
But said it they,The world is not yours.The world is mine, said I,But said it they, the world is not yours.My world, my feeling,How alone am I in this world!
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
A treasured love
For whom the poet’s heart,
Forever longs.
Similar Posts
So many things
So much was left behindThe love not had,The dreams not filledThe words I could notFind…The hands of TimeWill not turn backNo matter, how we tryNor how, loudly we cry.
To love and be loved
Can there be,Than a LifetimeOf just, you and me.
It’s clean,
It gleamsWith an ethereal light,It singsA song that is sincereWith feeling’s might.What do I hear?What is this light?A poet dear,Just wroteHis sweet, ‘goodnight’.
Hold my hand
I need your loveMore than you’ll ever know,For without LoveIn Life,There is no placeTo hide or goAnd we feel lostLike Autumn leaf,That wind does toss,And through.
What is inspiration?
That permeates you thru and thru,Taking you someplace grand and new,That turns you over with its wingsA first time song that sweetly sings,Making you feel so many things,That you had never felt before,A whole new world, an open door.
Imagine
Painters, Artists ofImagery,There’d be no warsFor behind closed doorsSo busy, sculpting Dreams,We all would be.
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
The oldest and less profitable
Of all Arts,
But who cares?
As long as it touches
The deepest fibers
Of loving hearts.
Similar Posts
The Human condition,
We feel,Tears, fears,Love, hate,Anguish, debate,Against lies and abuse,Liberty taken!Liberty lied,Liberty forsaken,Our Life and our Pride,Vision of Hope,Must stay at our side.Liberty must not be lost,It’s the most precious right,The one you love most!
I like to dream,
Oreos and cream,So what?I like to writeOn petals tooAnd if you couldWhy shouldn’t you?I like to thinkThat All are good,And just a littleMisunderstood,I love to think,That Love exists,Never behindSomeone’s closed fist,I like to dreamOf you and me,Though that has beenMy unaccomplished,Symphony.
How often,
Do we think, ‘things will change’,That some how, Hope can be arranged,And then something happens,Not for the better,Just an eye-opener,That makes you realize,That Change is just a word,That has to do with the weather,Not with human exchange,Something, that no matter,How hard we try,Simply cannot be arranged.
The excellence of Poetry
In the secret cornersOf softly sensitiveInner eyes,That can feelAnd look furtherThan what wordsJust signify,And decipherThe spiritual magicCommunicated,By a Poem’s sigh.Poetry!Magnificent AllureThat the spirituallySensitive,Cannot escape,Your Winter sunYour Summer shade,Life’s, escapade!The adventurous callThe Rhyme and Redemption,Of All inner Sails.
He died when I was twenty,
The pain I felt was relentlessSharp, like the blade of a swollen knife.Goodness was his living Soul,Intelligence, his banner,Honor was his sacred goal,No man was ever finer.I miss him and I always willOur time together was so short,But in every poem I ever wrote,There is a part of him.He made me all I am today,For…
The Mysteries of the Mind,
What? Cubism?Paths that wind and intertwine,Going where?To doubts and scares,Reaching for the Stars,But downward stares,Lost in Paradise,And nobody, cares.The Mysteries of the Mind,Sometimes,They keep us out of touche,Even with ourselves,And yet, it is Mystery, as suchThat makes us feel so much,And pushes us to care.
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
Melodiously uplifting,
With ever-beauty, crowned,
So close to the human soul,
That looks for You to console,
The emptiness of it All.
Similar Posts
I put my faith in Poetry,
I know that she is purity,Feelings reject obscurity,I put my love in Poetry,She’s never disappointed me.
Feelings fathom fantasy,
When in melodious unity,A Poem may be born.
You write,
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…
Music,
All that is feelingPure love and satisfaction,Melodious happiness or pain,A sonorously uniqueAnd abstract,World of its own,Ineffable, mysteriousDepth,Where the Soul is finallyDiscovered,And beautifully heard.
Raw animal hide in our veins,
Our humanity breaking all reins,Angel or Demon or Both?The Mystery still remains!
A short trip
Where still,Violets are blue,Roses, red too,Still waitingFor you.Imagination,Good will too,Life is made upOf passionate goals,Glory and tears,Conquering fearsAs love pavesThe way, to betterAnd brighter,Days,As hopefully,We pray.
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
Trying to make,
Feelings rhyme.
Similar Posts
A poem has to,
ConquerFrom the very start,Try to find your heartWhere it will, hopefully,Of youBecome a part,With each read,A loving start.That’s how certain poemsAre,Those you, love,Never old and never far.
As thoughts
We learn from themAnd try to unconfuseThe mind, make clearSo, thus we cheer,Learning,The greatest friend we have,The inner lightThat melts awayThe darkness and most fears.
I feel,
I thinkThat’s why,I get intoTroubleAnd hardly ever,Maybe neverFollow,Majority’sLink.
‘He who speaketh the Truth,
But nobody did,And as the World turned,We heard it’s axis groan.
Who can Decipher
Of anything?Even the word,DecipherHas a desperateRing,Of Nothing,In Everything.
My mission is not to hide feelings,
To open eyes thru poetry and art,To try to get deep into essence,Sharing beauty, peace and love,Not trying to destroy,What we be or see or have,Life thrives and blooms on Creativity.Love of Art lives in the poet,As in Nature grows the Tree,Life-giving to all creatures,Visions of Universality,Taking us from man-made featuresInto realms of fantasy,With soft…
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
To express, The Dream,
The Love of Life,
The Soul,
The Love of Nature,
The Human Song,
And Human Love
At it’s Peak.
Similar Posts
We fall in love so many times
And then sadly discover it’s not real,True love accepts the faultsWith all that’s good,Only then can Love flowerAs it should.
True Poetry,
It’s lightening that you cannot fight,A might that you cannot impeach,So powerful, so human right!It goes beyond all other speech,Defying darkness, blessing light.
Who are we, really,
Do we ourselves knowIf we are stardust,Or just dirty, melting snow?We all wear masks,It’s not convenientFor others our secrets to knowNor how far we can really go!
Yes, the road to Hell,
Lies from Truth, you cannot tell.
Imagination,
Amplification of New Horizons,Visions of ‘Sugar Plum Fairies’,Dancing on the prairies,Of the Mind.Off to the Conquest,Of New found Lands,Where Feelings can be scanned,Deeply, Sincerely,Aesthetically,PatheticallyEven Poetically,Without license,Freely,Playing the music,Of all Lands,Of all People,Universality,Dancing,Holding Hands.
The parts of the Puzzle,
Emails, not fossils,Will bring us new light,And show us and tell us,That quietly together,They plotted and rotted,And did nothing Right!
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
Flashes of luminosity
That come and go,
That won’t let go
Beautiful Tragedy!
Similar Posts
Vampires,
Feudal lords, is anything different for your serfs?Manipulated and strangulated,The people pay the price,Of the misuse of power,From the lowest hut,To the highest, tower.Will it ever change?
I open my eyes
Covering the whole sky,Extending over the Universe,My soul in yours immersed,Hoping not to die,So much in loveWith you, am I.
Thoughts that come,
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.
Reading good and beautiful things,
A certain peaceful gladness to the soul,And Poetry knows that,Best of all.
How timidly fragile,
The moods,The ups and downs,The High SpiritsThe Decent,Painfully, Deeper,Than All that’s apparent.How Soulfully different,To desire the sky,Knowing that Never,From this earth,Will you fly,A still bird,With broken wings,Is no longer, itself.And yet, you Try,You Try to comply,To pacify,To lead a normal existenceBut the Creative Spirit,Invades your Creative Soul,Night and day,Day and Night,With everlasting,And annoyingPersistence!
Life is complicated
The perfume of a flowerThe language of the sea,The dream,That is love’s promiseGreen miracles, called treesThat let us live on earthEnjoy all beauty’s worth,The red rose captures passionIn the early morning breeze,The love that follows birth,All mother’s, bless them, pleaseFor Love is so importantTo lift the spirit high,Without it we just languish,Then wither and just…
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
With real signs of contentment,
And sacrifice,
As a Nun takes her Vows,
As a Mother cares for her child,
As the World turns around and changes,
We, Poets,
Have nothing to hide.
Our love for you,
Is pure and complete,
You are the love of our lives
What makes us human and keeps us alive.
Similar Posts
Can’t put the Bloody Puzzle
Now its not only the WeatherThat kills Globally,But Hollywood too!A new way to Murder!Here’s the list:Thought,Political opposition,Different ideologiesGet votes, soughtTo be bought,Steal minds.A new disgusting filmCalled ‘The Hunt’Takes care ofAll the political needsFor the oppositionIn one devastatingBLOODY CRUNCH!But don’t worry,It’s supposed to be‘Satirical’WHAAAT? ?
Is to die of Love,
Death of the spirit,Death of the soul,When you cannot,Love at all?
To have a Way with Words,
Laced in with Fantasy, you walk,Not cross the line of the absurd.Explain your feelings, have the touch,Of vivid words that say so much!Communication, vital too,Sincerity, It must be You,The message fits the messenger,That never says, ‘World, I don’t care’
I close my eyes,
Not only thereBut Everywhere,You stole my heartAnd all I doIs night and dayThink about you.Love is like that,You are possessedBy the very oneYou want to possess,Nothing to do,The die is cast,I love you moreAnd never less,The flame is there,With each caress.
We want to believe were good,
Our History bears witness,To That!Some of us have good moments,That’s all,The rest of the time,We’re torments,Trouble,Destructive children,That fall.
People, want to look good, different,
But real beauty comes from way within,That’s where kindness, love, true beauty do begin.
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
So many Poets!
So many claims!
To practice,
Magic
We hope
Not in vain.
Similar Posts
I live to write
Just hope, sometimesI get it right.The pleasureThat good writing gives,Still holds of loveThe true delight.
Dreamer,
Romantically,Love opens flowers,Silently,Life is a toss up,But who are we?To stop dreamingWhen life is still bloomingAnd spirit and beautyAre naturally, free.are
Speak up!
Feel what is rightFor you and others.Truth, has special appeal,The sunshine of clarity,The essence of tolerance,The opening of understanding,And a Song that is RightThat only,The love in Poetry can write.Individualism,Democracy,Freedom,The right to speak up,And in dignity existAre our greatest gifts,Take care of them,Defend them,Preserve themFrom dictatorial hitsThank the heavensThat in America,They still persist!And Save Them,BravelyFrom…
Are poets happy?
An eternal melancholic flower,That takes away the power,To find happiness to share?Always thinking, always thinking,That better Worlds exist,In some fairyland, Somewhere…
Poetry feeds,
Of our Humanity,As if to make,A better World,Where All can live,In Harmony.
I like describing things,
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.
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
The more, I’m with you
The more, I love you
Without hesitation.
Poesia,
Consuelo, venido del cielo
Mas te escribo, mas te quiero.
Similar Posts
Life is complicated!
Questions,EvasiveSatisfaction poor,IncomprehensionSoars,‘You must believe’They tell you,But so many injusticesSeem, to alwaysTake over the FloorAnd we are leftWith the most foggyAnd lost sensation,Because, when it comesTo Evil and Domination,Nothing changes,And we are left standingBefore the open doorsOf abuse and abominationBeing so shameful,This constant lackOf tolerance,For one another,And so much hate!Instead of understandingAnd at least a littleConsideration,For…
More dangerous
A politician’sHypocrisy,And lack of Truth.
Not all enjoy
And I say,Pity, please!Good poemsAre like flowersWhose perfumeWill not cease,That you can readAt leisure,May bring youCertain pleasure,Even one dayBe treasureThat helpsA lonely heartFind peace.
They’re few loyalties in Life
But tomorrow’s interests,Change their way,Only love can make us loyalTo each other,And obliterate the hate,That others gather.Bring about the peace,That None, should shatter.
Days come and go,
Remain the sameThis undying love,Even if you wereTo change your name,Would still be,RemainMy one and only Love,Never in vain.Love,A dream we all want as true,To caress and haveThe tenderest moments of life,That we really can’t doWithout!For Love is all that mattersIn this pitiless, lonelyIncongruous, World,All the restBreaks up and shatters,But love remains and saves,Our spirits…
If you let me,
I’ll travel to theMoon,On worded wingsAnd Dreamy Might.No expensive spaceshipNeeded.A good dreamyWhisper,Will catapult meTo Space’s,Quiet delightWhere it will alwaysBe night,So the starsWill still be shiningWhile on EarthAll they’ll be doingIs insulting and killingEach other, for powerAnd planning,The economic misfortuneOf one another,Proposing universal ‘free care’When they don’t ‘give a damn’Like Clark Gable said to Scarlet,As he…
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
In the shadows,
It bites life
Explores strife
Speaks of Love
As none before
Ever could
Or ever will!
How not to love her
As she should be loved
Venerated, understood,
And erect for her
A temple of beauty
Where poets could worship
Her fraternal feelings,
That go, way into the flow
Of eternity’s spiritual glow.
Similar Posts
Trying to figure out,
Why bother?Why want to know?We’re not clocks,We’re not even fit to tell Time,Nor to fix what has to be fixed:‘Man’s Inhumanity To Man’Takes priority.
Don’t look now
Not at all right,All of them,Chaotic bummers,Don’t even know,How to govern!The ones that were,The ones that are,21st Century plight,Nothing feels right!Confused, hiddenBy computerized trees,Now, the forest,Nobody sees,So much information,So much untrue,‘Sanctified’ by abuseNobody, even seemsTo care about the truth,Cynicisms, absolute tooth,Muddled in darkness,Transparency, none,They haven’t even left us,A tenuous ray of sun.
Where did you go,
The thought of youJust lingers on and onA flowing painThat never leaves meGoing on, and onAnd on!For so many yearsAlready, passed by,GonePiercingMy thoughtsAnd my heart,Misery,Served a la Carte.
The irresistible urge
Infinitely…To go as far as feelings,CanBeyond the body, beyond the mindBeyond all time,As only true deep lovers,Can.A love like thatWould be, divine.Infinite Love,Does it exist?Yes, maybeOut of space and out of timeIn some unknown, mysteriousPlace,Where all Love and feelingsLeave no trace.Because they go beyondOur understanding,As holy, miraculousBlessed grace!
Complicated and Confusing,
‘I could have,I would have but didn’t’And at the end of it all,No one is really happy,With the life, they have lived.
I read her verses
As if She were alive!So touching,Their sincerityAnd beautifulSimplicity,I cried…
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
Of everything,
The essence
Of the essential
Love, Life
Torrentially
Flowing,
Always
Monumental!
Similar Posts
Under bulging tents we sit,
Waiting for our masters,To make rules,Or send us,To obedience schoolsBut blind folded, opened eyed,We have no place where to hide,And they always get our skin,We, the people never win.
If you go,
I’ll become the cold Wind, shrinking to a sigh,I will fold up like a handkerchief’s goodbyeIf you go, if you leave me, I’ll just Die.If you go,Who will share my simple verse?Who will travel thru my Universe?Who will calm my everlasting thirst?Who will heal my dreams and my tears, dry?If you go.
Hey, hey, hey,
Are going today?So much is somber,So much is sad,Everyone’s a racist,Aren’t you glad?Romantic?Panic!Haven’t you heard,A Bird’s singing,Is just so absurd,Rap noise,Is so very cool,If you don’t like it,Go jump in a pool.You try to be nice,You’re called, Dirty Nerd,You ask for advice,Cold Internet served.The ice on the Planet,Soon will invade,The hearts of all humansWho call…
I saw you there,
I could love,No one else, but you,Your Soul appeared,In one big Smile,That sent me drifting,Down the Nile,Into a Sea of happiness,That only I could see and bless.All this was but a Fantasy,A dream of false Imagery,I know so well, you don’t love me,And yet as sad as this may be,I love you so, and always…
Poets notice little things,
And they’ll write just a few lines,That condense the thoughts in Time,That can even sometimes rhyme.
I hate to be a pessimist,
Will not make an ugly ducklingInto a swan.We are by far,A decadent nation, my friendsWe are now the same as everyone else,Corruption and lies is what really sells.And all the politicians,And all dishonest men,Would not put America,Together again.
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
With loneliness,
Maybe?
But just know
That I miss you
More than I can
Ever write,
For in my heart
I know
That never again
Will I
Be with you,
Beloved,
And that nothing
Again,
Will ever be right…
Similar Posts
Love exists,
Out of Space,A world, all its own,Of felicity and graceInfinite emotion,Heavenly embrace.
Poetry Love,
You can’t give it up,It’s the blood of your Life,And the beat of your Heart.
Without reading and writing,
No Culture, no Art,And no History.
A precious Gift to the senses,
Comparable, to falling in loveThat mostly have,Unforgettable and wonderful,Consequences.
I gave you form
Now,Will you be faithfulTo me,Oh, Love of my Life,How will we balanceEach other?Without evenKnowing one another,That’s whyI love to write,I think that is whereAnswers, to so manyMysteries, daringly,Lie.
It was true then,
Without friend,Without affection,From dear life we run and hide,Even tears become less stressful,If there’s someone there, when cried.
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
Sometimes you can save
Renew and redeem us, All.
Similar Posts
What a silly notion,
And yet, all the poet wants,Is to be read and to be heard.
Tears clean our eyes,
What good is it to cry?If all that hurts,Remains the same.
A poem can be,
You receive one day,Full of beauty and melody,With the fragrance of surprise,Pleasant image to the eyes,That speaks a language,Never shy,But upholds sentiments,That just won’t die,And sometimes, only sometimes,May bring some tears,You have to cry.
In Poetry,
Philosophy, Psychology, HistoryImagery, Color,Beauty of language,Perfect symmetryOf mind and soul,Making it,The most beloved of allLiving Arts,The closest to our heartsSince writing first sawIts heavenly dawn.
Let Beauty surround me,
What better death,Than by the love of my life,Forget all the rest,I’ll always be a Romantic,No matter how deepInto the 21st century,Vulgarity, works in its knife.
The claws of corruption,
Of countries and nations,A real bloody mess!These men without conscience,Have no interest,In helping the people,Not even in jest.The murderous scoundrels,That hound us to death,Are Beasts without feelings,That give us no rest.
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
Essentials
Some different,
Some haunting,
Some purely,
Tantalizing.
All,
Totally felt
Without regret,
So much,
Of our humanity
There, surviving
In such narrow
Spaces,
That amazingly,
Encompass
So much of Life’s
Complicated,
But complete,
Portrait.
Similar Posts
Yes,
Poetry does sustain,With its sometimes happy,Sometimes sad, refrain.
Twinkle, twinkle my Lost Star,
Just the way you are today,Even though you would not stay,You have blessed me with your light,Taken me to Love’s new height.Twinkle, twinkle my Love Star,Even though you are so far,Love is nothing you can see,Yet it shines on, endlessly!
Poetry is a kind of Philosophy of Life,
That indescribable feeling,That allows the transformation,From sensation into language as translation.
Poets know what Poets know!
To make them let goOf truth acquiredOr inspired,Honesty in most of them,The goal,Never heard of many poetsWho the welfare of the peopleAnd the freedom of their soulBetrayed or even stole.
We twist and turn
With passionate wordsOf imaginative desire,Oh Poetry!Your fire,Is unstoppable,As your heart palpitatesIncessantly,Full of Love’s desire.
To express what you love best,
The inner heart, Emotion, real,Is to be, forever blessed.
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
An impact!
Something wonderful,
To say,
A benevolent guide
Like a dear friend,
That loves us,
And takes our hand
Everyday.
You have been,
My Friend,
Ever since I can remember,
In the most kind
And loving way,
Oh bird of deep splendor
A grateful tear,
Surrenders,
And rolls down
Memory Lane,
Today.
Similar Posts
Cocktail of Words,
Trying to makeSome poetic sense.A World all its own,Where the spirit is born.And feelings never end….
Eccentric poet
Moody, perhaps?Inspired,Or in a knot,To be a poetOr be not,Life is too shortTo decide,And love,Does hideA lot!So write yourRhyme,And be a poet,It’s all you’veGot.
Everyday I try,
Of humble pie,To meditate and learn,To create dreams,And not my bridges burnNot to turn my eye,Away from injustice,Condemn, those that lie,Project and Love Beauty,Using Poetry’s endless urn,Until the day, I die.
Is it mind or is it heart
Or is it both feeling at once?Our understanding finds appeal,In what mysteriously we feel,And think that enters thru the heart,Not that it matters,Which comes firstNor if they both are touched at once,The most important thing’s the burstOf deep emotional, wave shock,The Thunderbolt that will unlock,That light that’s waiting in the dark.
Happiness,
A moment of joy,A ship leaving port.Will it return?Or just as a thought,A memory vague,That cannot be bought.
You’re the Ten
My poetryMy guideMy loving cheer,How not to love youIf your melodyThru my daysYou slide,Like golden watersAnd inspirational,Tide.
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
A trip to be had,
Great Poetry is always a winner,
Whether happy, deep or sad,
For it flows like Life itself
And can become,
One of the best, emotional
And unforgettable experiences
You’ve ever had.
Similar Posts
As I stroll among the daisies,
And my heart starts to go crazy,And all sadness disappears.Love and roses, salt and sea,Bring you close, so close to me,Heaven titillates, hearts vacillate,But you’re all that I can see.Let the World continue crazy,Let our lives be what they’ll be,I won’t see the World as hazy,If your sun shines down on me.
Look at the people,
And shiver and tremble,Because we All know,They are more than Incompetent!Liars and Foes.Where have we been taken?Now a lot of us know.Oh please, Mr. Lieden,Your Circus must go,We’ll no longer swallow,You’re false magic show!
Thoughts that come,
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.
I wonder,
Or further tribulation,To an already bad situation.I wonder,About so many things,And get no answers,Just Mental Stings.Sometimes I hear strange, rapid rings,And see visions of even stranger things,Like the ‘Winged Victory of Samothrace’A favorite vision, of the Greece that was Great,No, no, I’m not insaneJust a bit lost, in this Mundane Rain.
If I could,
In the most exquisite GardenWhere lies dead and buried,All of hate.
Awaken to
The good and true light,That’s born within,That no one can infuseOr erase,Because miraculouslyIt comes from, yourselfSecretly, from way within.It is the good flameYou’re born withThat with kindness,Burns,The inextinguishableFlame of love.The whole worldWith sincerityYou will embrace,And this Love,You must always shareGive, for the bettermentOf all,So that finally we becomeA truly Human spaceAnd not the presentDisgrace,That we…
Leave a Reply Cancel reply
It is not rising on the top
Nor is it crushing down of me to the ground
I did not fell in love either
Nor is it a breaking up of any relation
Neither had I broken any rib
Nor I smashed my head
I was in smooth sailing in my life
No subtle or no magical words
No extra ordinary puncture of emotions
Poetry found me
In the most ordinary path
With very simple attire
In little aspiration and desire
In small things
In negligible events and circumstances
No poetry at all when I am a politician
Or a sale man
Suddenly I found poetry
Along with my son when I became a child
And looked at things in the eyes of him.
Similar Posts
Abundance in pleasure
I spill overThe bowl of the windInnocenceInsideOut sideI SpreadFragranceIntoxicatedHumming beesOver meZigzagAlways flyButterfliesLook carefullyI seeAn enormousPossibilityAmong thousandDifficulties and adversitiesPeeps and pops aroundIn the mudTo sprout outIn youLike me
I do understand the fragrance
in the colour of silence. But I shallnever fall in the trap of the smellof your well spread beauty asthey are purely artificial and a poortranslation of your heart.
Love was, love is, love will be
They love you love, love ILove will never, never dieThey love you love, love IBut I don’t love the style oldIt needs a new, a new moldI love in style, a style newThe style you know I know, knows a few.
Have you heard the breaking news?
Revolted against their respective governmentFor the inaction to ameliorateThe sorry plight of PalestiniansAnd this secret revolution is doneWithout shedding a drop of bloodAfter reading a poem of a poetFrom a far off landAnd they all elected a manTo the post called ‘’khalifa ‘’Under his single commandNow work soldiers in total five millionAnd whoever came in…
Once I was lost in the world confusion
Should I stay put or make a call and goAnd prepare a list of friends who act like a foeFirst I met with a miser as friend in dire needHe gave but pretension and quickly he fledNext with whom I made friendship was a liarLike mirage made distant things appear nearAnd nearer things made to…
Existence
Or a mold of red clay, full of bloodOr just a frame with bone and fleshBut that is not true me with a head.In that head I contain somethingAnd occasionally I bring that forthYou may know the man by nameBut you know not my intrinsic worth.Essence of life may be many a thingTo one but…