And it’s certainly strange,
How different we are from each other.
You love, who you love, who you love,
Why this one and not another?
There is a magical attraction that occurs,
That the mystery of love will never uncover.
Human ‘Vehicles’Aren’t much fun,Double forked tongueThat when put to use,Can conquer the UniverseBut can’t tell the Truth.
Language becomes,The best of shrines.But lines on Love,Are most sublime,Of Human Hearts,They are the sign,Love lines that want,To intertwine.Become the Poet’s,Best loved Time.
Thru figuresOf white ghost-like alabasterI sadly do remainWithin the pain, of your departureAnd living now, to no avail.Pain hugs my heartAnd is my master,Now living, never is the same,I cry and hurt so much, much fasterAs if all tears were in your name,Surviving solitude not easyA beast impossible to tame.
New Horizons,Open Seas,Those that truly care,About,What’s Really FAIR!
But didn’t,Love you on another scale,There where the Sea rushesAnd feelings are crystal frail,There where the Moon smiles,And Passion lives,Totally unveiled,There where no heart has gone,A Love unknown,A Fool’s Tale.
Life awakening,Beaming!Is somethingSo indescribable,Like love, like tearsDeep, down feelings,Stay and thriveAnd strangely enough,Also manage,To keep us alive.
You are what you are
But you can be better,
You can feel for others,
Try to keep Injustice far,
So that it never smothers,
The Liberties we so easily,
Take for granted,
Which are for all Americans,
Their extra-lucky Star
Or make someone smile,It doesn’t cost any money,And at least,You’ve made someone happy,For a little while.
The broken hills,Of no tomorrow.
Not even PoetryHelps,In finalAnd definitiveSeparation.
Sometimes a poetHides behind his art.Not wanting his true painTo be known,He calls ‘Poetry’, his home.
Like busy beesThey make honeyOut of words,SometimesBut never money.Just as well!A poet’s thoughts,Cannot be boughtNor would theyEver have a productThat even,Shopping foolsWould buy for money.
I really cannot visualize,A world without Artistic Ties.
