Are we unjust in our biased views of this man?
Yes
Because we do not understand, do not comprehend
Just what Thee Artiste has to offer
A man of modesty, humility
A man fit to take up quill and ink
This sad and lonely unloved man
Reaches far the beseeching hand
Of friendship
We,we privileged few, we who swore to help
Those so deprived
Of litery and poetic skill
That we should now turn the scornful back
Upon one who does so sadly lack
The art with brush and pen
And so I call upon you my poetic friends
To turn the cheek and make amends
For the insults that we threw
So spread wide your arms
Make free the welcome in your halls
Invite the master through the door
Then kick a Carvo in the *****

We danced toward
each other's wounds

with gentle step
and touched inside

and now the bleeding
has resumed

and all this blood
is hard to hide.

I'll sing of all the ways I miss you
and how this sorrow came to be
the verses, lies I should have whispered
the chorus, truths in harmony.

The melody will break the silence
and call your broken heart to me
to be repaired by love unyielding
to broken hymns in minor key.

.
A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It's the tears that trickle with radiance through words.
     It's a treasure trove that hides but longs to
     be found.
          It's a book shelved high that wants to
          be read.
               It's the freest of all birds caged but
               unbound...

A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It doesn't beat to the capable strokes of the artist.
     It doesn't pump in the most vibrant of
     colours.
          It doesn't wield a paintbrush to
          translate its thoughts.
               But it can see through the eyes of
               painters...

A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It doesn't conform to the conventional parameters of lyrics.
     It doesn't bind itself to the requirements
     of musical harmony.
          It doesn't follow the conventions of
          genres.
               But it sings its voice loud without
               restrictions of melody...

A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It's an open secret, that whispers in metaphoric codes.
     It's an exploding universe, that merges
     back into galaxies.
          It's a sought after painting, that boasts
          of unfathomable beauty.
               It's an everlasting song, that echoes
               within the poet that embodies...