Poetry….

A piece of Heaven inside of me,It’s all I lived for,It’s all there is,It’s what we’re born for,Why we exist!

Of good WillBe that LightUp on the hill,Open Doors,Put an End,To Hateful Wars!

Sometimes I really wish,My own thinking would stop,Just to be very still,In peace with mind and will,Not even hear a drop,Of water falling fine,And wondering, as I stop,Why is this drop not wine?

I can kill a poem,Just to have some fun.We are unarmed Hunters,Won’t you join us now,Use imagination,We will teach you how,Open up your good heart,Love will enter then,Imagery will follow,Sounds of ecstasy,And before you know it,You’ll have Poetry.

Your presence,Yet I see no face,Nor coming graceNor soul of lace,Yet, feelings raceAnd I think I know youFrom some distant place,Where Souls sometimes meetAs hearts beat, at a faster pace,Coming together,Even without ever,Being, face to face.

That’s how Life is,Mind your own biz,Like that you won’t be wacked.

Of Love’s wounds,The sentimental bandage.

Nobody is totally good nor totally badBut we can still fly without wings,Thru most of the truths we’ve lovedAnd understood, we can do good.Greatness is measured by good deeds,So plant as much good,As you’ve got flowering seeds.

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.

A ham and cheese sandwich.

Played on a piano of metaphors,Each one having his unique imageHis way of saying, poetically,The original sentiments that make poets free,All of this owned, very personally.The rest is heart,Resoundingly blown,By a wind of words,For each his own,Their very soul.

In the silence of the hall.Nothing mattered, not at all,Not a word was said, and then,Suddenly, I know not when,My Soul left me, with a start,And went straight into your Heart

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

Nor will it ever,For I now, knowThat you are gone,And it’s foreverNo matter what I do,Where I goThe air breathes,Never,A love’s that’s gone,A dying swan,Death is forever.

Poets defy,With their rhythmic cry,Thru all our times,The odds.And if words make it,Out of their pen,What joy is felt,Forever, then!

You mold and feel your way,Towards the final Sculpture,That you hope will,Eventually help you capture,And bring dismay and rapture,To the hearts of those who may,Perhaps, read you, Someday.

In the wilderness,Hearts of Stone.

Having lost you forever,Doesn’t even seem real.

My first choice,But I did not have the opportunityTo exercise my dramatic voice.Poetry has helped me,Express the good ‘demons’ within,My feelings, my imaginationSometimes flower, not as sinBut as poems from within,And I am very gratefulNot to drown in banalities,Even though I wish the stageHad been my place, to be.I would have loved to shareWith the…

On your side,For life’s good ride.Ignorance is Not Bliss,The more you know,The more you can combatThe stony path you find,The Evil that exists,Not with your fistsBut principally with,An illuminated open mind.Truth, Love, Peace, Light,Worth the fight!

Saturday night folly,Happiness at will,Drowning all blue sorrows,Not knowing,What black tomorrowsWill deeply living, bring,Chocolate, WhiskeyFor the momentMake worries stand still,Enamored with the moon,Giving, happiness at will.

That is how We left the caves,And started making History.

Or at least love poetry,It’s really very niceTo live this love’sFulfillment, fantasy,Poetic vice can satisfyBut never harmful be.

A piece of Heaven inside of me,It’s all I lived for,It’s all there is,It’s what we’re born for,Why we exist!

In living beauty,In poems told,In all that’s love,Not bought, not sold.

And hopelessly we descend,Into the private hell,Of our own reality.We are as we are,We are who we are,In our diminished capacity,To understand the private hell,We ourselves have made so well!

For it is an elitistAnd difficult Art.Some love poetry,Because it does create images,Sometimes dreams,That can only be seenAnd understood,By a sensitiveSoul, all heart.Some, might say thenIt is irrational, inexistent,And abstractYes,That may be part,But it also,May make us dreamWhen we really,Want to cry and scream,And may, I say mayEven keep some,From falling apart.

I will not let it die,And just stand by,I will defend our Liberty,That perfect Human right,That tyrants crush on sight.Our words will be our sword,With Truth we will go forth,Once Liberty is lost,The road to Hell is crossed.

A World, perfumed illusion,That enhances poet’s, sight.Thru Roses, scarlet color,Perfume and nectar flow,Thru Love we open power,The best we’ll ever know,Thru music we hear Poetry,With which our feelings grow.

They linger on,Outdo the rest.Never tedious,Never falseAlways yours.So never lost.Of all feelingsLove’s the best,We can’t resistThat inner poem’sIrresistible, caress.

Of all things beyond the stars,It’s what fills your life, by far,It’s what makes you what you are.

The heart so often lives,We need much more than purple rain,The peace, Poetry gives.

It’s being with the One you Love,And never letting go.

But what is really Love?If only I could answer that,I’d own the Sun, the SkyAnd all the Stars above,However,Love will always be,The sweetest of mysteries.

There’s an Explosion and a lesion,That cuts right thru an unknown zone,These are the great Poetic Visions,The sounding paintings, Metaphors,And words that cross just every Season,And leave you richer than before.

Feelings silently come on,Here today, but then their gone,Curious how they fluctuate,Rushing in or rushing out,Strong today, tomorrow’s doubt,Yet there is something that’s sure,Love so deep and true and pure,Never losing its allure.

Opens doors that close,Sooths the heavy heart,In a World apart.Like a PrayerPoetry can walk,Hand in hand, provoke,Distance from despair.Like a Prayer,Poetry can fill,A life that is still,Painfully, impaired.Like a Prayer,Poetry can give,Peace of mind, forgive,All those that don’t care.Like a Prayer,Poetry can teach,Love and others reach,Knowing, Love is there.

All they care about is,To Win It!And then continue,To Spin It!Incredibly, sad,Incredibly, shamefulA Country like this,Ripped, gutted by Cads

That Look of utmost happiness,Where words don’t count, just tenderness.The Look that said, ‘I love you so,And never will I let you go,Till Time does end, no matter when,I’ll love you more and more by then.

In the human being,The treacherous duplicityThat assaults you,And othersBut that they hideBehind masks,Of treacherous political tideYou want to run away!Call it quits,Lock all doors,Whisper, HideLook for a dark roomIn which to slide,And give up the ride.But then! You realizeThat there is still PoetryAnd you run to the windowTo let in the light,To hold hands with…

All I see is tragedy and lies,Around me,The World closing inOn me.I inhabit,Empty rooms,Where no TalesOf human frailsWill astound me,Evil winds, tormented gales,Come now, and drown me.

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.

Where do we come fromWhere do we goWhy can’t we stay?But Love,Please don’t ever,Go Away!

And hold your hand,And look into the endless love,In your eyes,And know you understand.

Having lost you forever,Doesn’t even seem real.

Called ‘Lonely Fog’Do you think,London would mind?And sue me,For brand name stealing?What are you talking about?You, Super-Silly, poetGo tend to your versesAnd you’re extra-empty purses.

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

The oven is cool, compared to you,You’ve got no positive heat,Any day of the week,Even on Sunday.

Has Rights.Yet, we respect nothing,As we allow things to happen,That annihilate the life of others,Instead of being sisters and brothers,Respecting our differences,Trying to do right,Rule thru kindness,Not thru fright!Alas!it never seems to work out,Does it?Sooner rather than later,Some political transitionCalling itself,A champion of democracy,Comes along, abusing others,Trying to usurp their human rights.But don’t give up.Maybe…

Were the same,Just learned that not even the Earth’s rotations,Are each time, the same,So why should all the people,And all the nations,Be lame, brain washed robots,All the same?Their personalities maimed,To serve some 2cent tinkered with dictator,Of socialist fame,Manipulation is not education.No two blades of grass,No two leaves of the same tree,Are the same,So why should…

We’re always but a quarter,From falling off a ledge,Wishing, the unattainable,Wanting to know secrets too,Why were we born so disabled,To never know what to do?

They follow you all overYou want to leave behind,But the painful ones,Stay over,And no matter,How hard you try,There are thing of which,You’ll never be getting over.

Domination in his hand,Brutal in his total power,Autocratic, lunatic and despotic,Stifles Human Dignity,And kills our Fatherland,With his Satanic-magic wand.

With Poetry,And you will see,How Fantabulous,It can really be.

But not even PoetsCan totally,Escape, Reality…

‘The People have Spoken’And yet we are slaves,Not maybe in shackles,There are Mental slaves tooWhat do you think Politicians, do?They lie and enslave you,A ‘Bad Motely crew, ‘Always taking advantage,Of gullible you,But people deserve it,Because they are cruel,And selfish, and stupid,And easy to fool.

But the greatest mystery of all,Still remains being, Us!Our perplexing being,Neither good nor fully bad,Yet, always treacherously clad,In many shadows dressed,Always looking, thus,For someone to oppress,So, caution watch out,It’s US!

Without youBut it wasn’t true,I am absolutelyNothing,Without you,Sleepless nightsNo morning, lightWithout love,Hearts dieAnd Roses too….

Of a thought.

Be more than more,And totally free.But this is justA fantasy,For no one can beTotally free,We are but prisoners,Of our past,Of happy momentsThat did not last,Prisoners of Destiny,When the die is cast,No going back‘Alea iacta, est’‘The bets are in’,A Roman,Whose name was CesarOnce said,Our decisions,Are not always for the best,Not matter how noble,And sincere our quest.So…

But the trunk must be healthy,To bear all that Life can be,Solitude is always our worst enemy,But love and understanding,Has saved many a lonely tree.

A type of investigationInto thoughts you cannot seeBut that question,All of Life’s existence,Constantly.Let the mind never be quite,It’s best friend,Curiosity,Hand in hand,It goes with learning,Still so much to know and see,Only Knowledge makes you Free!

Must be some poison gas,That’s polluting the weather,Or Uncivilized actions of people,Acting as ever.

Black, flying colors,No one is masterOf Time, DestinyOr DisasterBut at least we are freeTo chose whoWe will love,If ever weFind them,And also of howWe get lostIn life’s,Pitiless Jungle.

Their only in it,For the ride,And if you let themThey’ll take your hide.‘I’m running here,I’m running there,But hey, don’t call me,I just don’t care,I am the shadow,Of what I should be,If you are decent,Don’t be like me’Now,When you think of itHow can it be?That we are governed,By Insanity!

It seems, the same mistakesThe same bewilderment,The same bad things and crimesStill hellishly, crownedAnd still around.Since we lost Paradise,That old snake-vendorWith the sinful, temptingApplesIs still safe and sound,And always gaining ground.

EverythingSooner or laterIs put intoPersonal gear,We are self-centered,Selfish, egotistsThat is clear,Even if ‘socialism’And brotherhood,Are occasionallyCheered!

It has to speak,Universally,Of human Spirituality,And reach the heart,And reach the sky,And sail the sea,And never die.

Moves the Soul,Best of all,Sometimes,Makes us think.

Cannot retain all the juggling thoughts,That wet it, like a constant Rain.

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!

No need for words,Oneness, speaks,Deeply,So only two can hearFeel,The Love,That’s far and nearAnd, endlessOut of TimeChallenging, fear.

Who can follow?The immense hollow,Left by the insinuations,Of political mutations,So hard to swallow.

Words, on the contrary,Make me so glad!

All of Life,Is worth just This.

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.

Living Life and Time,Have faded me away,Like an evening flowerThat may not live another day.But, does it really matter?As the bitter winds of LifeProgress and Sway,Here today and gone tomorrow,Not even after all Life’s troubleDoes your looking glass Double,Have a right to stay.

The tears that come without my askingThe grinding and persistent strain,The emptiness that totally remains,The force that cruelly took you from me,But never asked,Why I keep crying in the rain.

And its strength cannot be shattered,Nor its Beauty ever blurred.

Everyday to paint a scene,Of some wonder, never seen.

Not you,They sustain the whole of Life,Silent beauty, language free,Giving life to all we see,Best friends of humanity.

Positioning themselves,To live off of slanderCut the neck,Of the goose and the gander.

Love all that,That cannot be,And still be part of Mystery.

Saturday night folly,Happiness at will,Drowning all blue sorrows,Not knowing,What black tomorrowsWill deeply living, bring,Chocolate, WhiskeyFor the momentMake worries stand still,Enamored with the moon,Giving, happiness at will.

Thinking, thinking,All the time,Loving poetry,His greatest crime.Poets, redefine things,Enlighten things,Create feelings from words,In case you hadn’t heard.

One day into another,The calendar stripes,Devoid of any time or gloryThe hours don’t seem to exist,Just the same old story,Nothing new, nothing happensNothing loves, nothing gives,In the quite anatomy,In the silent agonyOf some gameCalled Monotony.

Poetry,Even moreBut they bothAt timesCan open,Life’s MagicalDoor.

Even in Poetry,Some things when saidShould not be said,So vile, they really be,And still, are daredTo be called by some,Modern poetry.We’re living in a quicksand world,Where there is no respect,Where foolishly,We think we’re free,To write and say, no matter what,Then call it, poetry

That goes beyond the eyes,That softly magnifies,The meaning of all Love,Giving Life its deepest ties,Saying, ‘Love’s forever, love’Even still, after we die.

Doesn’t care if we All croak,Truth distorted and well chokedDon’t complain when we’re all brokeWe ourselves have sunk our boat!

However personal, yours may be,You have a ‘rendezvous’,With mirth,To play and describe,The music of life,And all its Beauty,As a Rose, as all of Nature be,As far as the heart can see,You must have feelings and respect,For All of Life,No matter whose life it may be.Poet, you have a debtOf respect,To the individual,Whoever, he may be,A…

It’s Everything, I feel.

Of a poem’s sound,And they may enter your heart,Nesting there forever,By your glory, crowned.

And Life goes by like a fleeting ship,A bad clip, in a bad playThat stops at no port,And has nothing to say.And with no Hope for Tomorrow, per seThe Dream, stops hereYou know the end is very nearAnd all of that Love you have accumulatedWill wither and die and go to waste,In your Life all…

They can communicate,With one anotherWhat embers burnWhat corners turnTo know one another?The Journey’s longAnd often wrong,Thousands of years,Conquering fears,Yet, we can’t understandOr hear each otherAnd then we turnTo cold machinesIntricate schemes,None flowing streamsThat will possesWhat little’s leftOf human chatter.Silent night,Sleep tightIf you still can…..

The One written by the soulWhere every word,Every verse counts,The one that escalatesThe highest mountAnd then comes downEnrobed in beauty and grace,Needs no idolatryNo matter how oldOr new it is,It stands on its own two feet,Proud, beautiful and sweet,Like new nectar found,Waving the bannerOf Victory, never defeat.

In directions never guessed,The end of our storyHas not been written, yet!As uncertain as it now may seemIt is up to thoseOf great good human willTo correct, the evil thatDoth still eject,Its venomous, unending stream,Will we ever get to build a dreamWhere love and honesty are heldAs best,While peace thru the WorldDoes stream?Let that be…

The Tempest is still there!The same longing,The same drowningRainBorn, like in birthFrom pain.Yes, I can swim,But not without you,Not even,Life, can ITotally regain…

Like a special whirlwindIt sucks you inCaptivates youHypnotizes you,Plays, on all stringsBut,Watch out!Warning,Danger aheadPlease,Fasten your seat beltsStay vigilante and awake.

A forest cannot beWith out, its treesNo ocean lives withoutMovement,No life can completelyLonely be,So how could you thinkIt would be possibleFor me to surviveWithout you, near?When you are allI ever wanted,The Love, The Light,The total goodnessThat made my life,So very dear.

And blindly, cruelly does enhance,All Things, that shouldn’t have a chance.

Unless you haveWith whom to shareWhat palpitates in you.The old, the past,The present tooAll new emotions,Not thought thru,Those special ones,That stay with you.With whom to share,The joys, the cares,All small, big things,The hope that sings,Happiness brings,A salty breeze,There by the sea,And all the love,That is in me.No one is there,For me to share,My fears, my…

So many answers we say we have,Bur really don’t,And Reality, is it really there?For lives and things change like the seasons,Everywhere, constantly,But, do we really care?

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.

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.

Poet, writes his song,Hoping to progress,Put his mind at rest,Maybe, sometimes,Even solving, just a bit,Of what is wrong,With a poetic caress.

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

Time passed,Yet no love,Could she call her own,So she spoke to the SeaAnd she prayed to the MoonHoping that theyHer guides would be soonBut it came to pass,That, hopelesslyNor the light of the MoonNor the depth of the SeaCould create a loveWhere no love there’d be,And alone, with no homeFor her heart to beLife left…

Prepare yourself for LifeBecause finally,The only one that you canReally count on,Will probably be,You.Remember thatThat ‘No one is better servedThan by oneself’,Says an old French sayingSo, take good careAnd do the right thingYou can much gain,Without losing,Anything.

In poetry,They’ve always shoneLike blooming StarsSo far away,At which the SkyLooks in dismay.

No greater rewardFor a poet,Than to be read,And a few words said,More welcomeThan Golden Thread.Thank you!

In a flower, in the Spirit,That in humans may be found.

If there is any part,Of man, that is really good,You can attribute it to Art,That deep felt creation,Less conceived in the mind,Born more from the heart,Inspiration, divinely blind,But humanly signed.

Poetry has a lifeAll of its own,And it’s not,Talking on an IPhoneBut one thingIs for sure,When it invades youSoftly caresses,And cradles your heartHitting a perfect tone,Never again, will youEver feel alone.

Are our lives.We are hereFor such short times,Those that loveAnd are loved backAre the lucky ones!Those aloneJust feelTime’s fog go by,Each day as hazyAs any other,For they have no homeNo gradian angel,To share withThe important momentsThat of life theyGather,All alone,Silently sufferWishing theyWere made of stone.And each day,The Sea of lonelinessThey’re in,Keeps extendingIts bitter tideSlowly killingFrom…

Of what is lostAnd cannot be recovered,Or turned back.Let’s not liveFrom regretsOf what could have beenBut never was.Go out and fight,Go and fulfillYour destiny!Do what you loveIn goodness,Inspire,Be it thru Poetry.Or taking inventory ofAll there is to followLove and admire,In this generous,Gorgeous PlanetDon’t make lifeOne big uselessMistake, regret.We only live once,And Time does notReturn or…

Not offered to All,Many times, our fragile mindsCan’t handle,Life’s difficult Call.

In Life’s Lagoon,No shore to go to,No place to be,When you are lonely,You’re like the Sea,Rolling forever,Stopping no more,Forever searching,Love on the Shore.

As,An open woundNo love, no tiesNo sharingBeautiful,Sunrise,Only darkness,And sad sighs,As the lonely moonWent, silently,Lifelessly, byAnd long lasting tearsFilled,The heart and the eyes.

All CloudsWon’t turn to Rain,All at once…That’s howSad and lonely,Sometimes,Someone can feelWhen life has lostAt times,All significance.

Today, an open pathTo poetic Liberty,Poets writeOpenly,Freely flowing in streamsOf inspirationAnd personal fantasyLetting a poem beWhat it has to beUnfettered and freeSuppressing, no inspirationModels of self-determination,Independence,And poetic, universality.

No publicity,It’s just there,Waiting to be discovered,Free,Full of meaning,Shining, Gracefully.

Then two apples a dayMust keep ‘everything’ at bay.

And they’ll write just a few lines,That condense the thoughts in Time,That can even sometimes rhyme.

And grow with time,Get under your skin,Not only for their rhyme.The more you know them,The more in you they singIn stature, in meaning,Passion and feeling,Always appealingAs they become,Thru loving osmosis,An integral part of you.

Man creates his own Adversity,But runs when it is near.

Warm like summer,Cold like snowUps and Downs,Anger and joy,As if our hearts,Were there to destroy.Human emotions,Don’t understand,Most of us need therapy,Just even to stand,And who says the Therapist,Can give you a hand,A perfect stranger,In your psychotic land.Human emotions,Who does really care?If you’re lost and lonelyIn Life’s empty chair,Looking for the answersThat never are there,Looking for…

Love’s treasures are pure gold,A smiling heart,A dream that’s partOf what is bestIn Life’s immense abode.

Our weaknesses, and rapture,The Creative Spirit can capture,The feelings that Life tries so hardTo fracture.

My consumer, the past,Of a life that will not last,In fleeting seconds you consume,The fire and strength of youth,You cause desire to become withered,And of no use.Time,Present is so fleeting,Moments of happiness,Like Ice, sleeting.Time,Future always uncertain,Waiting for the closing curtain.

Synthesize, the pain,Dance out and sing in trembling rain,Let your hair down, cleanse,Start anew,Understand,That there’s nothing new,Under the sun,Become you and then…Just go on.

Of my mind,You,Perpetually, there,Where, finally,I don’t even dare,Go, anymore.A Love that can compare,To the Stars kissing the Sky,Perpetually, in flare,Consuming all that’s I.A bleeding Rose,A Stare,Into Eternity,And dare,I call you mine?

‘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.

Then suddenly there’s magic,And your writing with your heart.

A person without affection,Is like a Tree that cannot grow.

Time passes so fast,It’s then that we realize,That every day we’ve had,Was a precious present…

Made for PoetsTo feelAnd write about,But alsoFor those, exposedAnd frantically apt,To getting their heartsStolen,In a moment of weaknessThat for a Lifetime,May last.

‘They’re a match’Does that meanWhen lit,They make beautifulFire, together?Always, wonderedAbout that.

If once it was your love,And in your heart,It will remain,Alive, with memory of,The thrilling time,It was first read and loved.

Our lives hang,From one thread,Spider web, thin.And yet we go on,Groping in the dark,Of our useless existence,Like Autumn LeavesWaiting to Fall.

With someone special,Who came along,Then, no longer alone,In a cold, disenchanted worldWhere more hate than love,Is so sadly served.In me,Locked in perpetuity,Feelings that have no name,But that are feelingsJust the same,That have been cried to the SeasTo the white peaked waves, with easeBut never to the right one,Who might have understoodThe burden of the Lone…

Or force it either.Life as LoveIs a turning wheel,Of fluidity,Fire and desireSadness and laughterWhere if you miss the moment,You can’t recuperate it, after.

Do not always come trueBut if they’re shattered, one by oneThat does destroy you too.

Not even PoetryHelps,In finalAnd definitiveSeparation.

So much dependsOn circumstanceOn interests that were cast,But Love’s supposed to lastForever,Or so we have been told,This dream we have,That’s young and bold,Love, never does grow oldAnd can’t be bought or sold.

Someone or something,Very, very much!Of Love,Never enough,After all,Love is the onlyTrue happinessThat lifeShould Be made of,Only Love,Is ours to takeAnd give,And thru Love,We live.

And I have no right to ask you to stay,Not for a minute, not for a day.Although, I remember how celluloid films,Made me Dream of the future,How far that all seems,A career in film, was always in my dreams!Acting, reciting, thundering lines,And then pretending the love story in the film,Was as romantic as ‘Gone With…

What truly does persist?In Life’s perpetual distance.

I think it Is,Poetry, the Champagne of literacy,Opens unfathomed stages of thought,Where language gains supremacy,Permitting the mind not to be enslaved,And setting the Spirit, Forever Free.

Take everything you’ve got,Said the weasel to the hungry rat,Just wanted to remind you,In case you forgot!

Others, rage,But when sincere,You have the best of Poetry,That sheds a tear,Or two or three,Being what it has to be,A felt forever, memory.

The businesses that went bust?The banks that spread the dust?The politicians who’s LiesAre a Party’s, Must?The Answer is clear,Don’t trust Anything!That moves, talks,Or comes near.

That ordinary poetsCannot do,Your song is likeThe Nightingale’sAlways excellent,Full of feeling,Immensely, appealingAlways prominentFull of beauty,As you reign over usWrapped in a cloakOf exquisite talentAnd resonanceThat so generously,Gets thru.We all are differentAnd differently made,But when it comesTo Poetry,I know yours,Will never fade.

And it’s always a missAll the analysisMakes you sick!You look out the window,Picture thisSnakes,More than you can list!When, whereDid everything, go wrong?In Heaven or in Hell,No one was able to tell.

So to calm the disarray,Of a World without a banner.Who will light of Love the Path?For a World so full of hate,Where abuse does all the Math.,Where Truth lives outside, the Gate.If the Poet does not Love,Who on Earth will then redeems us?For his Love comes from above,And will carry on the notion,That no life…

Believe it or not,The Rain flows thru my fingers,Producing pain.All my life,Things have been the same,Illusions that fly,Never reaching the sky.In the rain, I cry,Asking why?Ideals,Were a steal,When the Horse of Troy appeared,When’La Grande Illusion’ andJean Renoir gave it a try,On the World War sky,When the gods still magnified,Their power over mankind,And said things would…

Not that we would care,But so many would stare.

That LoveCan also Kill,How is it possibleThat in us lies,The Power,To save,Or destroy,At Will.

On me,Schizophrenic delight,Withdrawal from realityInto fantasy, delusionEmotional profusion,Flight!That totally liberates me,I travel thru time and spaceAt the velocity of LightNo waste, just facedWith being,What I want to beJust delighting in fantasy,And, completely,Totally and overwhelmingly,FREE!

Tightly, subversivelyHolding on to theFloating wreckageOf disgustThe Submarine of ShameThey’ve purposelySo carefully,Created!Yes, those monstersOf defamatory game.They are dishonestly,Disgusting!Working in the shadowsOf their powerfulPolitical Positions,To accuse, in vain,Creating,Hate’s black rainThat will hopefullyBoomerang,In their faceEliminating theirCriminal and disgracefulLow reaching, gain.

That is just a human fact,Wish Sincerity and Truth,Were not always out the roof.

Working hard,Swiftly,Running aroundIn all directionsTrying to find crumbs,Little wordsTo put togetherTrying, to giveLife and PoetryIt’s dignityAnd precious,Chant,Regardless,Of bad weather.

Sugar, Salt and Fat,Unhealthiest of dreams.Apples are much healthier,Swiss cheese and red wine too,Think of all the many things,That lighter you can do.

It’s all about Caring,You and me,It’s all about Dreaming,Infinity,It’s all about Painting,A Scarlet Sea,It’s all about Loving,So endlessly,It’s all about Living,Decently,And yet, Finally,It’s all about Nothing,So you see,We are not controlling,Our Destiny.

At any momentAt any time,You don’t evenNeed a rope,Just useHate and bloodFilled words,And in momentsThe victimWill succumbAnd painfullyDieFrom a brokenHeart.

With our dreams,And personal pain,Trying to hold together,Our fragile human domain.

Hidden,Behind dark, dirtySecret, closed doors,But sadly, Truth isHandcuffed and drownedIn seas of Lies!Today, in the USAWe are facing,Treasonous behavior,Falsehood marches proudlyThru Washington D.C.So called ‘democrats’Do Not!Have the people’s interestNor the Country’s, at heart,Beware! Of these power seekers,Corruption leakers!Dictatorship, is notToo far behind.

Digging in the SandOf Time,Trying to find answers,To those secrets thatHave neither reason nor rhyme,All lies in suspense,Theories, Opinions, Data,And yet, even with this Doubt,We still Want to Know,What it’s All about.

One after another, after another,Time,The same exhilaration,Delirium, ecstasy, rapture,As the heart beats fasterAnd the Pen flies,Dripping imagination,You’re Salvation,The Soul rejoices,In every poetic sensation.

Verbal Venom should be kept,In a special Vial,And not dispensed haphazardly.If not, after a while,It loses all efficacity.

So many good momentsThat pass you by,So many dreams,That reach the skySo many love stories,That laugh, that cryAnd so many questionsUnanswered,Why?Yet, we want to live,To love, to write,Discover secretsOf crying, dovesEven as Sunset comethTaking away life’s light,We must never stop,Loving Beauty, giving LoveRespecting Life,And alwaysUpholding what is right.

Round and Round, and Round we go,Where Spin Stops we never know!

Too much!When intensity’sToo great,You become a poetEven at an early age,To give ventTo all that passionTo content,Life’s deep compassionTo express,And to give birthTo all the love,You cannot ration.

Staring at the wall,Walking up and down the hall.1 room,2 room, three,All empty,1 door,2 door, three,Who’s there?Only me.

To political ideals,When there are none,We expect heroes,Out of political men,When most don’t even have the feathers,Of an egg-laying hen!

An image hardly touched,But when, my love,You love this way,One word can mean so much!

Nor will it be takenDown, a road itCannot own,So many livesAre pure disasterBecause they neverKnew how to beTheir own masterAnd look beyondWhat is alreadyDone and known.

Human jealousy,The petty partsOf our dysfunctionalEgotism,Such is the grandeurAnd UniversalityOf their Composition,For more than all elseWith purest Love,They touch,And conquer the profundityOf our hearts,Making, both human and divineThis glorious transition,Into loving Poetry and Art.

Tears are liquid pain,Not always seen,Emptiness, a phase,That’s harsh and lean,Lost in space,Hardly any light,Left to redeem.How do you play,Depression’s scene?You look at the Sea,Hoping for a dream.

Poems may soar after their birth,Is there a greater joy on Earth?

Is it to stamp our wee voice,In the Universe of our choice?Or to live in a make believe world?Where nothing is real, only absurd.

Or with anthingFor that matter,Our History,A MysteryOf unpronounceableSecrets!And nebulous matter.

Those Emotions quick, at hand,Nothing written in the sand,Truth and Spirituality,Poesis, a Mystery,Ideal World, ment to be free.Poetry, Oh Poetry!Make me always part of thee.

It opens portals, yet unknown,Of happiness untold.Love makes you whole again,It gives you winged waves,That cross the sea,Making you free,And finally, essentially,Love really, really saves.

Gone are mostKings and Queens,Monarchy, symbolic powerThat got substituted,By elected LiarsAnd Tyrannical Cowards,That produce nothingAnd only want perpetualPower,As they bleed peoplesAnd countries fromTheir protected towers.

I virtually dream you,I don’t have a choice.But it hurts so to love you,It hurts, in my bones,Yet, I’ll dream you forever,In my heart, in my soul,And I’ll painfully love you,Till the end of it all.

We’re a Motley Crew,Of Liars and Fear,Don’t know where to go,Don’t know how to steer,And most of the time,We destroy what is near!

Poetically written,But when it happensAnd I’m poetically smittenWith feelings that are written,Forever in my heart,That poem staysAnd each time I read it,In heavenly rapture,My heart sways.A sort of love-story,Like when someone prays.

The mysterious beauty,Of Love and Life,In one single lineIs there any otherSpiritual miracle,This sublime?

All Life’s pains,It can defeat,If you are lucky enough,To posses the One you Love.

Thinking is a process of Discovery,Without which you can’t get by.

That thru mental, soulful motions,In the heart do undulate,And these soft, poetic words,Can propel to outer space,Tinged with such vivid emotions,Enthralling, the human race.These Magicians are not always,A reflection of their words,Some of them do hide malicious,Bad intentions, black sheep herds.Just because you are a Poet,Does not make you be, a Saint,So pay very close…

Try to predict,Future’s Sky,Look at the clouds,Feel the wind,Ask somebodyHow to win.But no matter,What you do,Nor how hard you try!Predicting the FutureIs an impossible lie.

Within us.Who can tell?What really churnsUs, ‘sinners’.

I read verses of melancholy,Of frustrated love,Of prayers for a better tomorrow,Of things that I’ve never heard of.They console me and hold me,Like a mother embracing her scared child.Poetry, since childhood has been my friend,My accompanying musical instrument,As I turn Life’s lonely bend.Then,Now, and in the Future,I came across your poetic flowered bough,That with starlit…

Perhaps, in the Sky,Escaping us,Maybe, that’s whyWith their imagination,Poets, learn to fly.

And the Ones,That stayed behind,The dearly, dearlyBeloved,That no longerCan be mine,All the memoriesFold overAnd they grip me,My heart tie,And my feelingsBecome painfulAnd I give myselfA cry.Oh the TimesThat are no longer,How they hurt!Those times gone byOnly Memories, fold overWith some tearsThat never dry.

Something magic happens,When you write poetically,Doors just seem to open,Spirit, feeling free.Something seems to flower,Inside, poetically,And it makes you happyAnd you are where you have to be.

That we are basicallyGoodBut in us lies,The trapThat we can so easilyBe fooled.Fooled and taken overBut!If we are so easilyTrappedMay it not beBecause our intelligenceHas been clouded over,By devils making of usSaps,And then, running us over!Food for thoughtCannot be gottenWith food stamps,Because we all needTo be reeducated,By the truth,The World over.

There’s an Explosion and a lesion,That cuts right thru an unknown zone,These are the great Poetic Visions,The sounding paintings, Metaphors,And words that cross just every Season,And leave you richer than before.

But all my life, was one big prisonWasting time, searching forAn illusory fantasy,Never really found, never really had.Loving you was a decision,Not made by foolish heartLove just happened for no reasonWith or without great wisdomBut if not corresponded,Can be the greatest painThe darkest prison,Any heart can ever have.

May the Poet write,It is in everyone’s freedomTo like or not to likeBut if, by chance,You fall in love with poetryYou will not regret it,For so much closer,To Heaven,You will always be.

But never dull,So, away to discovery we go,Where we’ll land?We never know,So much is written by itself,Other times, by your secret elf.Poetry!Such a mystery,In a few words,Sometimes,A whole life’s history.

Film’s, musical scoresInvade my heart,And not only do I seeThose romantic lovers,In their dreamy filmsBut I also hear and liveThe galactic musicOf the stars,That makes me, evenSometimes, cry.Music, that willAlways thrill me,That has been with meLike a friendThat will not part,Just stay foreverIn my silly heart.

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.

But all he did was to engage,In arrogant controversy,Thinking that god,One day he’d be,But could not hideHis false identity.

When Spring was youngAnd new,Is painful from the very start,No longer is it true.My days go by,In one big sigh,As empty as can be,Sometimes, I just sit down and cry,My heart, an escapee,For nothing of that love remains,Today, a memory.

To be our guide,And make us better people,Yet, we do pray in disarray,And fall right off the Steeple.

In the shadowyCavernsOf the subconsciousMind?Hiding awayFor fear of beingFound out, butGrowing fonderOf that personEach day,Yet, afraid to beDiscovered,And sent away…These impossibleLoves!These secretsThat are blundersOf the heart,That, without doubtBlock your willLike unexpected thunder,Because you have no controlOver Love,That you can’t liveWithoutAnd may haunt you,Forever!Stealing, the bestYears of your Life.

Of ‘Swing Low, Sweet Chariot’And Canterbury,All the best of theEnglish Language,Judged, necessaryFor she uplifted,Body and Soul,She was alsoBeautiful and smart,And unrelentingly, poeticShe had the heart,The Bohemian part,Of a Forest Fairy.

Distraction, attraction, love?Yes, the eyes may be the silent portals,That convey unknowing mortals,To even deeper things than love.

What some feel as compelling and appealing,For others, those same things will never do.

That become aliveAnd in us thrive.The tones, the intentThe surrounding scentOf certain words,Can be so thrilling,Even fulfillingEmbracing all,Large and smallAt certain times.Poets, WritersKnow this wellAnd with certainWords and thoughts,Can inject a livelyFeelingThat sometimes can beSweet healing,As their webOf worded feelingsFills in many,A life’s loss.

What I want to be,I can dream up oceansOf felicity,Fly across the seasVisit Paradise,And attach myselfTo Peace,Light within reach,I can love youForever,Till infinityI can change, perhapsEven Destiny,Hug the WorldBe myself,UnconditionallyAnd finally,I can be freeOf any ties of hateAnd inhumanity.Love, will also writeA better life, a better fightFor the survival of HumanityA long lasting equilibriumBetween civilization…

And when they’re not there,It’s Hell, I swear

Nor of a woman’s, love,For it’s by loveThat we are mostlyMade and born of.

So much more to discoverWhole Worlds to uncover,Sustaining richness for Life’s cup.

You’re all I have,It’s me and youAgainst all odds,Against the World,Will we survive?A bitter-sweet breezeAccompanies,This chant.

Where all dreamsAre being born,Inspiration,Does it own,And the Artist awakensFrom his slumber,To create artistic wonder.Oh, may Art, Love, BeautyAlways reign!They’re the only thingsThat keep us sane.

JustDon’t you dare!Take my dreams,Away!That,SomedayMany will be good,Kindness understood,Hate will be buriedAnd buried, Stay!

You can think of.No one can explain,It’s colored rainbow,At the end of the rain.

That lived in a Computer.Come rain or come snow.Day or night,There she wasAnd wouldn’t let go.Almost 24hrsJoyfully,Taping those keys,And touching the screen,With finger-print ease.Until one day,The Computer said‘Enough already,I’ve had it up to hereWith your constantTappingAnd chewing my ear’Then dramaticallyCrashed and Died!The woman concernedDid not know what to doAnd very loudly,Screamed and cried,Then called 911Asking…

Her acting great,Just conquered all,Upon the screen,She was the Queen,The Greatest Actress,Ever seen!

Essentially Love,With feelings to spare,A love so deep,That it does then dare,Surround the World,With sweetest care.What’s in a poem?The poet’s soul,Imagination, encircles all,Musical tones,A waltz from the heart,Deepest feelings, that don’t depart.What’s in a poem?A micro-world,Of sounds and wonders,Of things unheard,Of thoughts that thunder,And fly like birds!Of feelings turned,Into precious words.EpilogueA poem must never be…

Writing to me is like a soothing potion,A session of psychiatric smoothing lotion,That brings me calm,And even if I never get things right,At least they have been put into motion,Thru this untangling of emotion,That Helps me, keep up Life’s fight.

So essentiallyEssentialA whole WorldA whole lifeAll of LifeCan be containedIn One singlePoem,The brave,IrreplaceableOne,With so muchLoveWith so manyFeelings,Saved!One Poem,Yes,The One!That oneAll poetsWishThey hadWritten.

And Poets can get away,With things that others dare not say.

That brings, such peaceSuch equanimity,The mind does straySo far away,This lovely feeling,Takes awayThe somber cares,Of day to dayAnd fills the heartWith joyful chantFor peace is Poetry’s,Great grant.

EssentialsSome different,Some haunting,Some purely,Tantalizing.All,Totally feltWithout regret,So much,Of our humanityThere, survivingIn such narrowSpaces,That amazingly,EncompassSo much of Life’sComplicated,But complete,Portrait.

Sometimes you feelLike the circus in the clown,Round and RoundMakeup melting on your frown,Shattered dreams,Life that screams,‘Why am I still around? ‘You want to give upBut you can’t!It’s funny,Because, no matter whatYou’ll still hold on,As long as Love,Is still around,A reason to be living,Always found.

I want to drink your nectar,Sip by sip,I want to travel, The Universe,Aboard a Ship,Called ‘Beautiful Verse’

And shared,It gives,Such pleasureTo communicate,This way!Have ideas,Share ideasMaybe evenHave some stay,And changeA grain of salt,For the better,Maybe?A little,Day by Day.

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.

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.

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.