To go around saying
What you feel and found,
What is painful, What’s profound,
To be making sounds,
In perpetual true-confession.
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They’re not leaders,
Working for all They can get,Their lives with our sweat to perfectBenefiting only, the governing classPeople in speeches receiving,Broken promises and poisoned flowersThat makes the Game offered,To decent, credulous voting foolsA scheming, totalitarian tower,Laced with the chains of much too much power.
I have never been able to share
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…
When God created,
Of Treasures,We received so much,But Nothing like,Life giving Trees,The fruits, the oxygen, the rain,Of Life the early seeds containBest Friends, our Trees they do remainFor precious Life, they do sustain.
How do I feel today?
In no other country in the World,Big or smallCould a Miracle like thisEmbrace us all.Now stand in grace,Stand tall,Let the whole World understandThat American DemocracyIs the King of this fair land,And that God has blessed us All,With a Second Chance.What better than to haveWith your Country,That deep, undeniable Romance.
Stop Time!
Love has no end,Defies time, is healing,Ever blooming,Like a new rose in the sun,The queen of all hearts,A song deeply felt and sungIn harmony with Life,As long as you can love,You are forever young.
You thrill me, chill me,
Love fills with grace,The empty space,Of many Worlds.
Not be afraid to start,
A peaceful Revolution
Of ideas and feelings
That opens doors,
Leaves prejudice apart
Tries to be a just judge,
Of society, a part
And above all, love
All moving parts,
Of our sometimes
Positive,
Human evolution.
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Thoughts,
In Poetry they findThey’re very flowLike the rivers,To the Sea must goSo poetry is writtenFree,And knows, it mustSpeak independently,To the heartBut come directlyFrom the soul,That shines withInner Love,For all that livesAnd all above,In undiscovered skiesThat give the UniverseSuch a mysterious splendor,As hearts and mindsTravel togetherIn search ofTotal Harmony,Forever.
I speak to my Computer,
Thru people that I’ve never met,Keeps new events on track.The past, present and future,Computer, does adapt,Can take you almost anywhere,Especially with laptop.I live in my computer,It is my second home,I travel and I write my life,And never am alone.However, I must truly say,Amazing as You are!You certainly cannot replace,The sweetness of a warm embrace,Nor reaching…
Poets have a greener sense,
They can sense the Universe,And then explain it all
Imagine
Painters, Artists ofImagery,There’d be no warsFor behind closed doorsSo busy, sculpting Dreams,We all would be.
Hunting down the moon,
Sailing choppy waters,Never getting far,Life is an illusion,Gone before it starts,How deep would be the Ocean!How real our dreams would be!If there had been the illusion,Of love one day to be.
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.
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Gales of emotion,
And then you blow it!
And people know it.
Sensitive to almost
Everything,
When you’re going to cave,
You know it,
Exaggerating everything,
Thru the colors of feelings,
You want to touch Ecstasy,
Thru worded rainbows of Fantasy,
And you show it,
And people know it.
Yes, believe it or not,
It’s hard,
To be a poet.
< br>
To be a Poet.
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For Some,
Feelings come.Poetry can best express,Inner pain or happinessOvercome and blown away,Feeling deeplyIs just that way.
Too much Analysis
When isToo much, too much?Too much thinkingToo much lovingToo much feelingToo much tryingToo much cryingToo much accusingEach other of racistBlubberToo much protestingFor nothing,For unbridled change?Where does it stop?Where does it end?In heaven or in hellWhen its so overdoneAnd its justToo much!Bordering,With insanityStaying out of touchWith realityOverboard, terrifyingBecoming a menace,A maladyNeither the 21st centuryNor the people…
The dearest word from which to start,
Of our existenceWithout Freedom, what’s aheadMillions of Chains around our headAnd thus Tyrannical Men spreadThe seed of ignominious and disgraceful defeatOf Liberty that they beat and steal from usLeaving Her for dead, in a pool of our bloodWith nothing fine nor human left within our heart.
‘Make believe’, a daring feat,
Cameras, scenes form a complete,Cameo of life’s duality.What is fiction, what reality?Acting, talent, without end,To play the life of others,Must be trilling to thus bendFrom one role, to another.Actors love to be like cats,Nine lives or more their actions,Live adventures, open doors,Adrenaline, distraction.Directors, cameras, actors, sets,Defy most of reality,Challenge most of life’s hard bets,Great film…
Today,
I have deeply looked,Into the face,Of my inner liberty,And found tranquility.The World may crash,Indeed it will,Nothing for me to do,For I’ll be happy,Even then,As long as I have you.
Single performer,
Solitary SolitudeAlmost as ifOne were None,In a monochromaticBubble,World invisibility,Where silence isNormalWhere, Time isHostilityAnd nothing’s newUnder the Sun…