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Jim Parrera Poem
Freedom differs on how each men define it,
like the love of autumn or cold of winter.
Vast it may be but meaning is implicit,
so vast that no soul can ever hinder.
I define liberty as a pen and paper.
Mere it is , but my understanding is sure.
What is simple for you, to me strikes deeper.
Thin a paper be , but it lasts to endure.
The glory of ink is immeasurable,
for a tender soul of mine to comprehend.
Though age has numbers, I am an example,
of a generation's hope for we to ascend.
May the world be courageous to project art.
Like this sonnet , this is where I start.
Copyright © Jim Parrera | Year Posted 2011
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Jim Parrera Poem
I often describe your beauty and charm
but never the way I feel about you.
And now I ponder what gracious and harm
does this angel have and how much I knew.
You tend to bring the best in everything
especially to me who laughs scarcely.
Takes my humor in skies of high jeering.
Petty it be but I find it dearly.
I pray to the great and wish to be signed,
to how I should feel 'bout this art of his.
For after hardships and sadness, I'm bind.
Yet your sparkling eyes gives me constant bliss.
A Goddess's face you do resemble
and the smile that shall make mountains tremble.
Copyright © Jim Parrera | Year Posted 2011
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Jim Parrera Poem
Love is but a touch I forget,
When odds stack and towers fall.
Heart and soul fails the walk ahead,
and dances around the devil's toll.
Effort as I may, so eager.
But delusions are false and lies,
leaving me with empty hunger,
on plates of sigh and dreary flies.
But her light keeps touching my room
of hope and dreams , someday my worth,
will be as bright rather than whom,
the great man of her awesome sort.
Let I have my fantastical
truths of kind be melodical.
Copyright © Jim Parrera | Year Posted 2011
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Jim Parrera Poem
No poet writ for the joy of another's eye,
for the desire clouds your poetry.
What sense is it to satisfy the fellow?
when you writ for others , not self gratification.
Art of words be tossed here and there
but it homes in its wordful owner,
the heart is unbounded by deems and description,
because it only be defined by its heartly artist.
Rich and poor is bestowed with the ability
to portray the colors so lovely within.
Damn the doubtful , impale their questionings
by the hands of GOD they neglect a gift.
We thrive the roads of the lost beings
and our paths will meet whether we want it or not
a wish I have since I was a todd
May I meet the beings , and learn from I, they will.
Copyright © Jim Parrera | Year Posted 2011
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