Friend or foe
Our capacity for Evil,
Is out of control,
You can really love someone,
And end up in a hole,
With Poetry that sucks,
And is not good at all!
Our capacity for Evil,
Is sad but not strange,
It’s been around,
Since long before,
The Biblical Age,
Remember the brothers
Cain and Abel?
The end of that story,
Did not go so well!
In Trust, we cannot trust,
In Betrayal we Can!
That is the saddest part,
Of man being man!
Time,That will not last.
Is a wonderful thing!The spirit of creationIn us sparks,And makes usLive and speak,A world without artWould be inhumanSo impoverished,Less smart,Like birds without songsWe’d wither alongArtistic creation,Is our cultivated Rose,Our salvation,Beauty’s selectionThat only love knows.The artist’s creationIs like his beloved childSo intricately, love woven,Meaning more than his life.
The poet are blessedBy their art,In a world of confusionAnd interests that groanAnd tear you apart,Not knowing whereTo turn,Consolation and peaceHave to comeFrom within,As we learn how to swimIn the muddy waters ofPerfidy, duplicityAnd sin,Where life searchesIts tragic endingAnd honesty,Cannot win!
Where all good soulsMust go,Where there’s no pain,Just love insane,Where heartsJust palpitate and grow.Give me,That hallucinating glow,Teach meWith your wanting eyesThe secrets of Love’s sea,Love’s tides,Keep me in your tender armsAnd never let me freeDon’t you understand?That only loveCan make life flowAnd that my soulWill only your love,Ever want or ever know.
Streaming, fast awayMemories pastCannot be heldThat swiftlyFleet away,So is the past,So is the past,That leaves us,But today.All flutters by,In Life’s great sighDoes not come back,Dissolving, in Today,Time takes awayBut won’t give back,All dreams,That would not stay,So is the presentInto past,So is the presentInto past,Like butterfliesThat hardly,Live a day.
The strong attractionThe blinding,Thrilling Action,That compels,And casts its spell,As no reason,Interferes,In the loveThe Poet has forHis live creations.So isThe Poet’s LoveFor Poetry,As it permeatesAnd conquersLifeAnd all he writesAnd feels.
