Thoughts

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…

To calm, perhapsOur innate fright,To sooth, perhapsThe lonelinessThat all may haveIn life’s distress,To face, perhapsThe silent nightKnowing that thingsAre quite not rightWe writeTo bring about exchangeA better World,With cores of light,With higher thoughtsAnd better sightPromises heard,Love’s sweet delight,To give great part of oneAnd then,Ready to start,To write again.

The Earth that combines,Such Beauty, such Birth,Of species and plants,Of flowers and trees,And lets not forget,The gift of the Seas,The blue ocean blue,The salt in the breeze.Respect Her, take care,Caress Her bright hair,She is part of you,As you’re part of Her.

Destiny, or beyond,What can we do?How often it seems,Life is like a broken vaseWe try to put the piecesTogether,But they really never fitNor will they again,Bring us any pleasureFor once you know the truth,Your eyes are open,To the world’s whirlwindsAnd displeasures,Abuses and hard measuresIt’s even more difficultTo keep a steady footing,Lost in the burning sandsOf…

Night is my Vessel,The Stars are my sails,And my favorite Song,Is the one that hails,Sadness, as a monotone.

That no one will ever know,Covered with eternal snow,Placed upon the, Mountains high,Where eventually they’ll die.But the ‘Mal d’Amour’, my love,Lack of love, were talking of,That’s the saddest of them allFor a poet, above all,Needs to share,His love, his soul.

Elevated to a scaleWhere there is no celebration,Of others, there’s no call,For they simply don’t exist,You have devoured their throne,Set aside their domination,You reign thru your Soul,Poetry Perfection, that is All.

When we met,There were no flowers, yetBut there was Brahms,And the musical silhouette,‘Aimez-vous Brahms? ‘Do you love, Brahms?A film I shall never forget,Its music brought us together,Melodious love would last forever,However, life separatesSo many lovesAnd then we realize,How short the pleasure,How long the painBut Brahms music,Like our love,Remains the same,Beautifully sad,Full of nostalgia,Still, calling your…

Is blurredAnd destructiveChanges,Can set us backFor Years!But,Who listensTo Reason,Who listensTo Poets?Both,Can only produceDiscomfort,Veracity,Humanity’sTears.

Rome was lost, corruption most,And now it is our Time.

Do we findAnswers?Maybe not!But along the wayWe have probably.Investigated deeply,Learned a lot,And Learning always isA salutary and fulfillingRoute.

Do you Hide?Waiting to pounce on those,Who think their Lives,They can decide.

Is a miracle.Whether sadOr enthusiasticGay or pathetic,BrilliantOr just simply written,For it can translateCherished, secretsInner feelingsOf a lifetimeof a second, of a day,Into precious worded songsThat stay,Unforgettably sublimeThat remain as written,Sentiments, friendsLive souvenirsIn a most unusual,And inexplicable way.Palpitating, alive,With soul reachingTenderness,Conquering Time!Lovingly, sincerelyEvery good poemA miracle,Breathing immortalityThrough love and inspirationIn a most mysterious way.

I try.I will never be preparedFor that final,Goodbye.Love is a specialTyrant,And I can’t evenExplain, Why.

That most,Cannot writeAbout thingsThey don’t believe inOr even feelIn a very strong way.Poetry is the sincerestForm of expression,Maybe, the very first,That tried to portrayLove,In a written way,As glorious lightFound,And dearest possession.

And ash,That keeps you fromGoing forward,Out of fearOf a deadly, Crash!I could have loved youBut I didn’t!Out of fear, and cowardiceAnd that I willRegret,All the rest of my life,For the deepest feelingIn life was then,Forever missed.

Trying to reach the sky,Aspirations, high,Trying to purify,Our human faults,Trying to find Love,To heal life’s,Sudden jolts,And doors that closeWith disappointing, bolts.

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.

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.

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.

It’s a kind of Spiritual Pain,That you cannot do without!

An empty page glares in my face,Not made of hope or white fine lace,A loveless heart that hardly beats,There’s no return, no life to seek,Hello, goodbye what do I careInto just emptiness, I stare.

Mi pasado, mi presente,Mi futuro y mis alas,De todas las cosas de este mundo,La mas amada.

In pain,The hidden fear,That does appear,Each time they cross,Each time They’re near,Lover’s forbidden lane.Forbidden Loves,So far and yet so near,So painfully discreet,Only their souls can ever meet,Together they will never be,Their loves,Like in a fantasy,Demanding to be free,Will live,But in their lonely minds,Forever, tragically!