Imagination,
Opening doors
To a life
Of exotic fascination
That no money can buy.
Wealth,
Of soul and feelings
Spiritual sharing,
Unequaled donation.
Similar Posts
Hope that we know
Of them all,Is to grow, in love,For all that livesAnd all that givesShape to this,Wonderful WorldOur Gift,Miraculously, conceivedBlessed,With life’s seed,That human foolsConstantly,Take for grantedAnd continuously,Bleed.
Maybe Poetry
Just one more wayTo hide,To run awayFrom crude,Rude, disgustingReality.We destroy,KillAll positivityAs well asHope,As violence alwaysSeems to take overAs wars and endlessRevolutionsWith no solutionsSeem to makeThings even worse,As all positivityIs murdered,By violent barbarism.I see nothing positiveAhead!God help us,If the forcesOf destructionLift up,Inevitably,Medusa’s evilAnd revolutionarySpearhead!
I have to say what I have to say,
I’m just that wayIt may cause trouble,I don’t care,I have to followWhat I think is fair.So much injustice in this world,The Truth forever stomped and blurred,At least with language there’s a chance,To maybe, clearly at things glance,Sincerity, is what we need,Then Love will flourish,And Truth be freed.
Swan’s love,
The simplest loveOf two, in love.One partnerFor life,If One diesThe Other may dieSoon after,Of a broken heart.True,Heavenly LoveIs like that.Tenderly I sob,For their lossOf purest whiteTransparent souls,Losing love,They’ve, lost it allBroken hearts,Irreparably,Cannot fight backLoneliness and lossLove’s battle,Definitely, lost.
Like a musical instrument,
My favorite sound,I rebound and vibrateWhen I hear your name,You know, very wellThat after seeing you,I was never the same!You’ve stolenMy heart, my LifeMy Domain,And now,Even in the darknessOf my solitudeI see you!Just the same,As I, becomeThe SoloistOf my lonely Concerto,Called, ‘Pain’.
Hot or cold,
The giant is eating,His cold red beet soup,And the World may burning,Good morning, to soot,While our government cheaters,May think that’s mundane,Only some dirt,On the World’s window pane,That doesn’t affect us,So nothing we’ll doTill it’s really too lateAnd were burned in the stew.