Today I’m thankful for love, and gardens and libraries
for many philosophers and experts have agreed…
If you have
love,
a garden
and a library…
you have everything you need.
It is all here
the quietude I needed
the silence I require
The solitude I covet
So I can delve into a book
Becoming the heroine, or the hero,
living the life we all want to lead
I sit for hours, soaking up new personas
Loving myself more every minute
Classics, mysteries, autobiographies, adventure stories and everything else
Filling this terrific library from side to side, floor to window, ceiling to top shelf.
It is a book reader’s dream, until the entire concept gets bumped out by technology.
Now all of our favorite books can be uploaded on our tablets, a fine use of lexicology.
Repositories of The British-Donated:
Of texts like bombs detonated;
Books from their libraries discharged;
The-Given-Out, not a dime charged …
A Harvest of The Happily Released
Because of The New that must be increased;
Books that have lost The Right to Remain There,
Better reasonably dumped elsewhere
Between The Hard paper Back
Like strong keys to hack
And The Partly Fragile of Skin
Whose sight sometimes win …
Books freely circulating British Philosophy
But equally peddling America’s Theosophy;
A growth presumed from Her Majesty’s Concern
For our Intellectual Darkness times ten!
Also, a reply to the worries of her users
Wanting to occupy seats sort of useless.
Anyone can write a poem
I mean, they’ve never passed a law
and with the quick access to paper
and all.
Of course, the serial poet’s the danger
that keeps us up at night - someone lacking
the gene for rhyme control. Normal people can’t
imagine such wonton, naked promiscuity with words.
It’s best that we ignore them - to nip it in the bud.
A real collective effort is required - let us build
institutional archives - yes - we’ll call them libraries - to
lock such verse away - may it never again see the light of day.
If you catch a child with a pencil, slap it out of their little hand
because we cannot start too early in discouraging needless rhyme.
This public service announcement - pointing out this new “poetry”
trend - was made for the benefit of all.
Library, temple
of knowledge...
Promoter of knowledge...
Ascesis of the meat with
reading...
Leticia of the erudition...
Library,
works sanctuary
divine... selected from
maximum demonic...
Encyclopedic Internal Affairs
of ignorance... source,
fulcrum of perpetual works...
Alexandria burned...
Forgotten Gnosis. so much...
erudition erased... !
BURNING LIBRARIES
The affliction on spreads
Akin to a wildfire it rages
It raves the old the weak
Did 1 John say the meek..
Covid covert conveyed`..
Corona wildfire burning
An old person is a library
Yet the affliction targets..
Billions Giga Sir-viva'l data
On blink of extinction...
Was covert now it's overt
Said Donido T.. The shark
Corona is not a virus from
Machino It is a Chino Vrs..
#Stuff of conspiration
Bubbles in time..
#Ackmi Luis 03, 2020
(English Sonnet Rhyme in Iambic Tetrameter)
What tomes in lonely corners dwell
where undisturbed and rimmed with dust,
forgotten tales that once were held
and stained with tears and love and lust -
now sit untouched like aging queens;
more interest in apparent heirs
like Kindle tablets - pageless screens,
dull bootless script where no one shares.
So empty when a page is turned,
no weight of paper in its place
and when it's done no conference yearned -
there is no book ... just empty space.
The halls where all the books are kept
will haunt until their dust is swept.
They are high state of art,
renovated or brand new.
In the hallway greets you fountain,
sculpture, statue or the painting.
Escalators, elevators
or the stairs will lead you up.
Decorated walls in wood
and uncounted standing books.
They will quench your every anguish.
They have books in every language –
second or the one for you.
From books learn, grow, improve,
you will also know the truth –
what you can and cannot do.
Libraries are said to be
Treasure house of books,
Books here, books there
On racks high and low.
Culture and heritage
Thoughts of writers and poets,
All in a room for those
In thirst of knowledge.
Newspapers and magazines
For the current news,
Books on history and
Present affairs.
No noise or overcrowding
Just the noise of flipping pages,
A peaceful work in libraries,
Result in increasing knowledge.
For a bum like myself,
the libraries are warm.
I walk down cold and lonesome
avenues and deserted streets
and I am cold and lonely.
I clench at my heart
to stop the flame,
that keeps me warm,
Keep it from going out.
I go and walk,
my hands are numb,
my face and ears are blacken
and frostbitten,
and I go into the library.
The building filled with books
that were written by bums like me
who tell their stories,
of how they survived the bitter cold.
I sit a corner desk,
way in the back,
all alone,
next to the heaters,
and I write on
and stay warm,
till closing time...
-10-26-2013-
Cosmos can not hold
The measure of our God's love
A book upon books
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.