POETS
As I grow older I keep thinking we poets are a breed apart.
We see things a bit differently to the rest of humankind.
I could say that, we are dreamers; not always quite of this plane.
I think poets have to separate from every day life a little.
It is this ability I believe that feeds our muse.
Maybe it is this quality that inspires us and
lets us remove ourselves slightly from the mundane of life.
I am not saying we do not take part in every day life but
that also we can shut it out and give our minds freedom.
There are many other qualities that influence us
as we struggle for those lines tweaking as we go.
All experiences end up affecting our preception.
It is from every day life we take things to write about.
Yet the ability when in the muse to stand aside and see anew
is maybe the greatest gift we are given. May the words always flow,
so we can take readers briefly into our special world and
momentarily see things as a poets heart sees them. Bless all poets.
Categories:
preception, dream, emotions, poems, poetry,
Form: Prose
Conversations write instruments
I did not know what you meant
by saying so many things
that life brings
I am coughing up every word
that you have heard
these miles flying over my head
but they weren't birds
the things that bring death from below
are not the way to go
everlasting life brings immorality
that is the ulitimate reality when time come controls the state of mind
the words I find
are not very simple because mans dark ways
drowns during the day
Categories:
preception, america,
Form: Free verse
they say i think im never wrong
that ego takes my mind away
i simply think i speak the truth
regardless of what others say
tho i can take in other's words
and give them all respect thats due
my own preception is my world
my intuition's always true
Categories:
preception, life
Form: I do not know?
My precept ion of reality, has become tainted with time;
The world seems so bitter, people once friends unkind.
My phone which once was busy, now is hardly used;
My heart has turned so cold, tired of being abused.
Alone I now must sit, things in my life have changed;
My marriage which once was happy, my X has rearranged.
The simple pleasures I used to enjoy, seem like a chore to me;
Happiness once filled my heart, now bitterness is all I see.
My precept ion of life is different, though I wished it was not so;
Bitterness now lives, where once love used to grow.
Categories:
preception, introspectionlife,
Form: I do not know?
My precept ion of reality, has become tainted with time;
The world seems so bitter, people once friends unkind.
My phone which once was busy, now is hardly used;
My heart has turned so cold, tired of being abused.
Alone I now must sit, things in my life have changed;
My marriage which once was happy, my X has rearranged.
The simple pleasures I used to enjoy, seem like a chore to me;
Happiness once filled my heart, now bitterness is all I see.
My precept ion of life is different, though I wished it was not so;
Bitterness now lives, where once love used to grow.
Categories:
preception, introspectionlife,
Form: I do not know?
Nobody is above love no matter our background
But we all seek the lure of love...
Aloof in this peril of existence...
Shilded by my outwordly appearance of normalcy
We of the class of tormented souls have mastered
the preception that all is well
To admire the insane, is to never know what
madness can do or does to the afflicted mind
and the people that love them
To who or what empoisoned my mind, to that
undoubtable, untolerable, being, I grant
you no welcome...
Categories:
preception, confusion, life, loss, sad,
Form: Free verse