Art the Beloved
Men all seek thing one
Appreciation
To be understood
Albeit with weaknesses ubiquitous
To be called the best
To see the world bowing to them
Pardon is not to be told
To men that mature
Their language to learn
A prerequisite it is
Before they say it you begin
To execute a command
Before they grow temper
You begin to cool them
Soothing always
Art you're my beloved
Suddenly I fall to your service
Caressing intellects you fell giants
Brave and slippery, cunning and provocative
You learn me and you know me
You understand me and my lateness of thought
Waking me up at my sleep you help build a nation
Stirring the hero to ignite the engine
You speak my language, you hear it
Words dense and broken you employ
By an assistant's armory ghosts bleed to hell
Whilst I think of my want
You meander in sprees uneven
To bring home my desire
I never thought love yet you provoked me early
Where finds I gratification you know exactly
And pile stocks of jubilee for your contented master
My love begins and ends with you
And time soon I’ll stop life
That you may live my behalf
To tell them my story, philosophy and theosophy
For trusted are you
And I man will take a nap, nap, nap
And one more
Yet they’ll hear, feel and see
You imparting sagacity this style
On their deafness, blindness and mess
And I’ll take posture and coffee
But they’ll notice me all-where
Squeezing into their spaces and seizing their power
And the conclusion will be like the beginning
I hope my proposal is accepted
You to be mine device for justice
A spike to the short changer
Justice in the middle and compromise without
Poem created on 16/04/2012
Copyright © Sila Muthoka | Year Posted 2012
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