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Jose Velasco Iii Poem
Love
Love is but a word
To describe such an emotion
in a four-letter word
is the most profane act any human can commit.
Love is Love.
it cannot be defined by four measly letters.
Love is more than art,
more than literature,
you cannot fully describe it.
It is a unique experience,
yet anyone who has every been madly in-love
knows exactly how it feels
Yet, they too know that "love" is not an accurate analysis of that emotion
Love is beauty,
Love is peace,
Love is happiness,
Love is Joy,
Love is all around us, really, if we choose to see it.
Love is more than a four-letter word.
And I wish, there was a way, to accurately describe,
the intense, beautiful emotions,
of being madly in-love.
But I find myself,
committing the most profane act
a human could do,
In me hoping to convey to you,
what I think of you.
I love you.
For the love of my life, Dj.
Copyright © Jose Velasco Iii | Year Posted 2017
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Details |
Jose Velasco Iii Poem
There's a Good Man just up that hilltop there.
A Good Man,
He loves all children, both the troublemaker and the perfect ones.
He loves the poor and gives them alms and shelter.
He loves the hungry and thirsty, he feeds them and gives them wine.
He loves all who mourn, and comforts them.
He loves the ill and heals them of their ailments.
He loves the peacemakers, and befriends them.
Among these things, this Good Man loves sinners, and he dines with them.
Despite these things, that Good Man is up there on that hilltop, among the thieves and the criminals.
Despite his love for all, he's treated like a murderer, flogged and beaten.
Tortured;
All for his blasphemy.
He was forced up that hilltop against his will,
But never did I see him strike any who condemned him,
Nor did I see him curse all who struck him.
As the beating sun scorned upon the crowd and the Good Man,
No longer carrying his piece of wood upon his back;
His face turns upward, to the sky.
And he calls for Elijah.
Soon, the Good Man dies.
The King of the Jews dies by Roman hands.
As the Good Man dies,
The earth trembles
The sky turns cloudy and blackens out the sun
The winds nearly blows us all on our backside.
Soon, it becomes apparent to all onlookers,
That this man was no Blaspheimer.
The Good Man was the Son of God.
And instead of bowing down to him,
We crucify him.
And so,
I tell you,
On the top of that hilltop,
Dead,
Among the sinners,
Is a Good Man.
A Man who loved all.
A man sent by Elijah and killed by us.
Jesus of Nazareth.
King of the Jews.
Copyright © Jose Velasco Iii | Year Posted 2017
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