The education of the young mind
Took place
Behind closed doors
Because that mind -
Initially free -
Had to be
Taught
The value of freedom.
The education of the young mind
Took place
In an open space
Because that mind -
Once closed -
Had to be
Set free
To explore itself.
Aug 18, 2014
Aug 18, 2014 at 7:18 PM UTC
In the everlasting fragrance
Of the sound
Of your love
I bathe and notice
Each winding minute
To your door.
To your door
The key to which
Unlocks each and every
Passage in my heart.
Aug 17, 2014
Aug 17, 2014 at 5:03 PM UTC
In beauty there is myth
I am the brave hero
In Love there is legend
I am the blind storyteller
In truth there is fiction
I am the vagabond poet
In honour there is glory
I am the hopeless romantic
Aug 16, 2014
Aug 16, 2014 at 2:08 AM UTC
Prepared to ridicule himself, this fool
Is guarded against the jibes
Of those he thinks less inclined to self-criticism.
How then is he to gauge his faults
And turn them into something worthwhile?
How can he define his foolishness
If uncertain as to the extent of his limitations?
How can he begin to accept the advice of others -
'Go jump! ' 'Take a good hard look at yourself! ' 'Grow up! ' -
If he isn't prepared to be objective?
Unprepared to accept objectivity as objective
'I know what I know', he spouts
Ill-mannered, inconsiderate and obstinate.
How is he to assume the more demanding role
Of the one being spoken to?
No words, it seems,
Can convince him of his stupidity.
No words, that is,
Except his own.
Um.... ah.... um.... a poem takes form.
Ironically, loneliness is his theme
Nothing else can say what he wants to say.
Happiest is he, when miserable
Exposing his misery for all the world to see.
No one, it seems, is quite as miserable as he.
He takes care not to say too much
In case,
To make his point
He admits (in the mode of a tragic figure)
That there is nothing to say.
Logically, 'there is nothing to say' explains
His actions
Although failing to describe
What bothers him.
It seems that that can only be other people.
In them, real feelings express themselves
And a challenge presents itself for him to understand them
No matter
It is they not understanding him
That concerns me.
As querulous as it may sound
It is their obsession with 'reality'
That he objects to.
No amount of persuasion can convince them
That his feelings are real.
'Such as absurd notion demands an explanation'
He hears them say, but he is only prepared
To go on dreaming -
Observing others observing him
Observing them.
His sincerity
Isn't expressed in conventional terms.
Unbeknownst to them, he cares
And unknowingly they add to his suffering
As they refuse to acknowledge his feelings.
His suffering -
A product of a trivial pursuit
For universal meanings -
Is compounded by those who think him
Lacking.
***
Lacking in those human qualities
He most desires
He turns to someone, who,
Without her knowing,
Possesses them for him.
Kindly, she admits him -
Herself lacking the assurance
To comprehend the extent of his need.
She feels for him
As one would a child, an innocent, a poet.
His feelings exist in her eyes,
And his failings form
His 'uniqueness' -
A reason
For loving him.
Sufficent reason, in itself,
For him to love her.
Nevertheless he feels
An even greater need
To justify his feelings.
Their differences,
His reliance on her
And, equally,
Hers on him
Need explaining.
As others see it
Their differences contain the germs of disunity,
And in their interdependence, signs of submission.
Again they see things in 'real terms'
Neglecting to take into account the power of the imagination.
She isn't what she appears to be
Her beauty transcends experience
With all pain absorbed in her -
He shares in her happiness
And is privy to her sensitivity.
She instills in him a new faith,
Another reason to write -
A belief in humanity.
This is what he must explain
To those who think him foolish.
But he remains aloof
Barred by a certain quirk in his character -
Whenever he tries to be serious
He gives the impression
Of being insincere.
When he tries to explain his feelings
It's as if he is the one
Who needs to be convinced -
His new found faith seems void
Without someone else to believe it.
Yet people want to listen
And give him the chance he's been looking for -
The chance to prove himself to them.
They're not heartless,
And would rather not judge anyone unfairly.
The truth is, however,
That he is such a fool
That he needs to hear his own words
From someone else's mouth
Before he can believe them.
Aug 8, 2014
Aug 8, 2014 at 7:39 PM UTC
In the beginning was the Word
And the Word was Good
And all Spoke the Word
And the Word was Love
And all Loved the Word.
In the beginning was the Word
And the Word became Days
And Days to Life
And Life to Poetry.
Jul 26, 2014
Jul 26, 2014 at 6:39 PM UTC
The Love I have has no other name
It belongs to you
The loss imagined imagines me
It belongs to you
Jul 25, 2014
Jul 25, 2014 at 8:33 PM UTC
Doesn't it change
The course we've taken
If I say
I Love you?
Doesn't it mean
The end of what we had
If what we had
Was a beginning?
Jul 24, 2014
Jul 24, 2014 at 7:10 AM UTC
Wish upon
Another's heart
Let her be happy
Let her be strong
Let her Love right the wrong
Wish upon
Another's mind
Let it seek
Let it be free
Let it's knowledge find me
Wish upon
Another's soul
Let us journey
Let us travel far
Let our Love guide the star
Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 9:03 AM UTC
Wonderful Woman
Wonderous Woman
Woman of my imagination's dreams
How did you find me?
How do I know you?
Wonderful Woman
Wonderous Woman
It is you I have longed for
Yet still I long for you
Woman of my imagination's dreams
Wonderful Woman
Wonderous Woman
How you have loved me
Yet how I have loved you
Woman of my dreams
(For S.....)
Jul 21, 2014
Jul 21, 2014 at 7:21 PM UTC
You are life and love and more.
You are earth and fire and more.
You are the sky above the sea below and more.
You are what encompasses life
What gives direction
What holds hope
What nurtures happiness
What feeds passion
And more.
You are to me
What I am to you
In my dreams.
Jul 20, 2014
Jul 20, 2014 at 9:30 AM UTC