The Tribal flux,
Looks for no acquittal.
Today we are no different,
Than all the Others,
The Country is living,
Its saddest hours…
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Infused with the emotions,
I travel freely,Without pain, without fear,Knowing that Love Is,The only reason we are here.
Writing my life away,
Wish I were a bell or chime,Just to rest my heart, from Time,And the tyranny of rhyme.
Freedom,
Is there such a thing?Seems that today,It’s soAll taboos, restrictionsLet go,Down, wrong riversWe flow.Before,All was sinNow,Nothing isAnd we’re still not happy!There we standLike idiotsWith open hands,Waiting forHappiness, completionTo fall from the skyNot even knowingThat this feeling of emptinessIs individually createdAnd that happiness isWhat we want to make itThe potential for it,In each individual liesIt cannot…
The True Human
Has no colorRace or nationality,It just feelsLove and Compassion,And Is,The best in us,All.
One step away from song
Long on feelings,SentimentsLong on LoveWhich it sings best.The summit of feelingCannot be expressed,In simple words,Poems are there,To say them first.Where words becomeA sweet caressAnd feelings flutterAt their best.
May I offer you
Made of flowersFrom my heart, today,All the love I’ve savedAlong, life’s weary wayIs waiting,For youWith more tenderness,Than I can even say,So won’t you come and getYour Spring bouquetRoses and CarnationsAre debatingWhich will have madeIt, worth all the waitingFor this unforgettableSpring delirium, felt,Blooming in our hearts,Today.
Preach so much,
And do so little,
To practice,
True human touch.
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For Some,
Feelings come.Poetry can best express,Inner pain or happinessOvercome and blown away,Feeling deeplyIs just that way.
One of the most beautifully poignant things
Is the discovery,Of other Sensitive SoulsThat thru words wants to expressLove for all our given miracles,Of which Life is,The most sacred and the very best.
Sometimes Poets write nonsense,
But better tis, not to write any quizThat makes intelligence frownFor the danger is, the Poet may look,Like a silly, stupid clown.
To express what you love best,
The inner heart, Emotion, real,Is to be, forever blessed.
Feelings, Words that you will treasure,
I suppose that’s why there’s Poetry,With its Beauty and sincerest,Honesty.
In true Poetry
You feelMore than understand.The spiritual magnetismIs Undeniable,A feel of Immortality,Perfumes the air.
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So much
And yet,
We still haven’t
Learned
How to get along
Prisoners and slaves
Of our primitive passions
Limiting,
The scope
Of inner compassion.
.
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Love, lovely, lovingly
Don’t you, also feelThey’re just about,The bestWe have around.
A poem wants to be,
That together stick,Not just some candle,Without a wick.A poem wants to be,True spiritual form,Words that blend, not monotone,Language, feelings and the soul,Open eyes that know no ceiling,Words that are, you’re very own,That you want someone to read,Hoping, they will make them strong,Holding out your heart in hand,Singing Life’s perpetual song,Feelings shared in unison,Words that say,…
Knowing how to perfectly guide the Actors,
Creating for the public, Films,Video, Audio, pure delightMiracles in flight,That are a part of their creative spirit,And Artistically, so right.
With Fools and Fiends
The World.Thru CenturiesThat’s what’s been doneDisgracefully and notFor fun.Power, richesIntervene,Also cruelty,Unprecedented,Bloody murder,Tragically,Fills the sceneNon-Stop!Nothing but,More than shamefulBehavior,From bottom to top,When will it STOP?Ever?Our cup runneth over,With universal abuseAnd blood.
Nothing in Nature is the same,
So why should we,Not individuals be?
Poetry can be gay.
What it should never be,Is Mad,For madness belongs,To the world of fools,Where life is just shattered,And there are no rules,Poetry is feeling and hope and dismay,A promise of Wonders that people can say.
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As many Mysteries,
As Spheres,
That turn around
Without colliding,
While we wonder,
Who conducts
Their silent gears?
But the biggest
Mysteries of all
Are,
Love and Life,
For we know not
What
The Miracle of Love
Is all about,
Nor what we’re,
Doing here,
As life,
Goes in and out
From this,
Our blessed, Sphere.
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Deluge yourself with Learning,
The magic of their blessings,Will make the Spirit grow,And You will flower,And become a Person,That you will Love to know.
Like the Sea, Poetry
Bold, Beautiful and Brave,You fill my heart,Tear me apart,With you I soar,Want nothing more,Than to be at your side,I fear the day,You may not stay,For you’re my joy, my pride.I’ve gone thru life,Passionately,But always being yours,Have wanted very little more,Than to be at your door,You are the living soul in me,The passion I adore,Oh please…
Don’t write just to write,
Downs and heightsDarks and brights,They should be truthful,Never try to capitalizeOn the misfortune of others,Or provoke chaotic gutters,And if the winds are rightWrite about Love,With true, heartfelt delight,Save the World,With Love’s great might,As you write.
The fog won’t lift,
Have caused,The flowing tearsTo turn into,Gray, icy rain,And there, you are!Just the same!An immutable shadowCausing me to wiltAnd strain,The last dropOf this perniciousLove, without whichI will never,Feel or ever be,The same…
The musicality of verse,
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.
‘I didn’t know,
We didn’t know, ‘Goes the song,Of the political Crow,‘Never my faultAlways blame others,That will help us Fool,All our dumb brothers’Despicable and Dangerous,That’s what we have,When you conjugate ignorance,With Political Hash!