Levels low and shallow,
One must never try
To gain,
Great goals in life
By destroying others,
For all you’ll leave
And plant, that way
Is bitter thorns,
No fragrant flowers
That will only hurt
You too, and many others.
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One happy person,
That is content,Full heart, full mindWe all have our pains to bearWhy is life like this?That only our punishmentsWe share?But very seldom our bliss.Making others happy,Should make one happy tooVoluntarily sharing,Is better than forcefully taking,I think one day, peopleMay understand that too.
The need to write,
Delight!A way to feelAs you write,That can’t be helped,That can’t be stoppedLike the Ocean’s wavesGoing back and forth,Preceding, all.Love’s force,Born, not acquired,Mostly, inspiredThis burning,Irrepressible,Written page,The writer’s Stage,His written soul.
We should hang our heads in shame,
And now again, we are threatened,Not only by outside killers,But internally, by stupid clowns and foolsWho think in their delirium,That lies and stupidity rule,That they are the absolute winners…
What an incredible delight!
Initiated, by Art’sCreative sensationMiraculous realization,Of incredible works of ArtThat throughout HistoryReflect and beautifullyPreserve our past.Art that proves,That even with all the hateViolence and Corruption,And physical destructionSome humans still have a wayTo gift us allWith the artistryFrom their noble soulsAnd have so much loveAnd creativityThat they are ableTo redeem in us,The humanity,We thought we had lost.
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.
My blood is boiling,
It’s all the same,Tell me in who’s bad name,Do we get the right to kill?Our History of Blood,Going on, going on,Still the same!