When ‘life’ befalls living..

Today is the World Poetry Day and I’m  proud to call myself a poet and honoured to live in the shadows of an art that boasts the likes of Blake and Frost and Shakespeare and e.e.cummings. For most people poetry is beauty. For some, its like a form of an escape from this chaos of living. For me, poetry is a way of life. I wake up with poetry and I end the day with it.

Poetry makes me feel superior because it is an art that is most impossible. It makes me feel inferior because it is an art that is most impossible.

The girl on her toe tip

Swiveled like a top

As her pain melted

On the warm wooden floor.

 

The man on the saddle

Glided along the tarmac

As the wind devoured

His erupting tears.

 

The woman on the ledge

Peered onto the wilderness

Stretching beyond the horizon

Setting her heart at peace.

 

Passion is the angel

Guarding our heart and soul

Against this terrible, terrible storm

Called life.

 

Like this man, sitting

With a pen and a thought

Reliving moments, rekindling feelings,

Seeking hope to keep going.

 

The above is the sole work of the author and no part of it has been reproduced from any source anywhere.

 

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