By definition, talent is to have natural aptitude or skill,
So naturally for a poet like myself,
Talent is what happens when artistry
Becomes the integration of poetic elements—
Transferred from savage seas of thought
To the nakedness of a sheet of paper—
A voice of confidence composing songs of beauty in motion,
Live wired passion sparking spirit lifting inspiration.

Talent is within the heart of whom possesses it—
If the vessel is tainted with chaos
Then the outcome of devastation is imminent
If the vessel is painted with endearment
Then the outcome of equanimity is prominent

By definition, talent is to have natural aptitude or skill,
So naturally for a poet like myself,
Talent is a gift ,one not obtained freely—
nor does it find its way to everyone,
but it is the duty of the talented
to be inspiration for the talent-less—
To be a human of poetry,
A messenger of the earth,
Parallel to fellow man,
no matter the race, creed or gender.

Talent is within the heart of whom possesses it—
If the vessel is tainted with chaos
Then the outcome of devastation is imminent
If the vessel is painted with endearment
Then the outcome of equanimity is prominent.

Joseph R. Adomavicia

Among'st a non-judging expanse,
Creative clouds dance.

Through fields one might prance,
Find a tree and sit
Or take a different stance.

See it fully or just give a glance~

The clouds, they form in multiplicities,
Reflecting simplicity;
Expanding creative form explicitly.

What'll it be?
How'll it grow?

Beautiful sky of freedom's form,
Modify your figure and break the norm.
Show me what never dies and is forever born~!

And reveal to us in time what is on the inside,
Usually hidden when worn.

I saw this in the clouds today, when I was bored..

by Randy Newman*


Broken windows and empty hallways
A pale dead moon in the sky streaked with gray
Human kindness is overflowing
And I think it's going to rain today

Scarecrows dressed in the latest styles
With frozen smiles to chase love away
Human kindness is overflowing
And I think it's going to rain today

Lonely, lonely
Tin can at my feet
Think I'll kick it down the street
That's the way to treat a friend

Bright before me the signs implore me
To help the needy and show them the way
Human kindness is overflowing
And I think it's going to rain today

The sky: an ever-changing canopy,
Endless variety.
Black at night,
Punctuated only by stars and moonlight,
And clouds by day.

Cloud-ships sail along an invisible sea,
Scowling black clouds,
Or fluffy white palaces of snow.
No end of shapes and forms,
Yet sometimes formless mists.

Clouds that are net curtains
In the window to space,
Or growling black monsters
Firing deadly lightning-forks.

If we’re lucky,
There aren’t any clouds at all,
Just blue from horizon to horizon
Everywhere you see.

Golden-red dawns and sunsets
Contrast well with deepest blues
All colours and hues.

By night and day, Moon and Sun
Play Peekaboo behind those clouds.
And stars forever twinkle and swirl
Along the Milky Way.
No words can adequately capture
The beauties of the sky,
It just gives God’s Believers
Every Reason Why.

Paul Butters

a suffocating pain crawls up his throat
as he watches from the observation deck
a home once his now pathetically remote
in the cosmic vastness an agonizing speck!

brave wanderer was his dusty restless boot
his mind a yearning traveler on endless roam
love flew like sparks without growing root
never was one place could he call his home!

now before him stands an infinite rocky terrain
inviting him to unveil her unexplored asset
replicate a habitat of a different light and rain
build there a refuge retrieve a broken nest!

his lips seek a prayer as if to shake off fears
as creeps up his spine cold night's stardust
whispering the void of four ninety light years
the story of lost empire and all the broken trust!

O wind she is far though
in thy blow whisper to her
to find me on the horizon's glow
read heart's script on the first star!

O wind when thou pass by her
ask if she sings the old song
its notes make her eyes blur
aching for the lover missed for long!

O wind when thou play on her hair
and she feels the touch of my hand
strum the tune softly in her ear
I'm pining in a faraway land!

O wind when her cheeks thou kiss
wet them with thirsty lips' touch
speak to her my only dying wish
to let her know I loved her very much!