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Joe Cole Aug 2015
Letters are the building blocks of words
Words are the building blocks of poetry
Punctuation is the mortar that holds it all together
But you poets are the architects who design the poems
Joe Cole Aug 2015
In the corner sits and old wooden rocking chair
Just as it's sat for the last hundred years
Worn and polished with the patina of age and use

I sit, pencil and pad in hand trying to visualize
What it has witnessed over the years long past
Tears of happiness, tears of heartbreak
Of births and of death

Christmases and birthdays when times were hard
Times when money was scarce
But times when the children understood
Times when children were content, with the little that they had

That old chair has sat there in the corner
For at least a hundred years
I read stories in the grainy polished woodwork
And let my imagination loose
Joe Cole Aug 2015
B** Bitter words are spilled across the page
I  Inciting an equally bitter response
T Taking us to places we don't want to be
C Causing animosity amongst once close friends
H Hate and vitriol spreading like a foul pestilence
I  Ignorance taking the place of understanding
N No more the poetic repartee of friends
G Gone now are the beautiful days
Yep bitchiness is becoming the norm
Joe Cole Jul 2015
whenever I get a comment or a like I always look at that person's profile and sometimes read truly poetic writes. Here is one such write

Shekhar Suman

It's shadows that I like
They walk with me, when there is light
And when darkness raps but loud and clear
I sit down and write, so that you can hear

thank you Shekhar
If you read a poetic profile then please share it with us
Joe Cole Jul 2015
I walk away from the city stress
To stroll on the golden strand
No more the worries of 9 to 5
Just my footprints in the sand

I sit now on a rocky point
Above the raging sea
Face battered by the wind and rain
But it's here I love to be

I've now left the drama of rocks and sand
Left the rolling white capped waves
I sit now beneath filtered sunlight
In this songbird sunlit glade

In my hands the quill and parchment
By my side the cup of ink
Now is the time for the words to flow
Now my time to sit and think

''Tis now my time, my time of peace
To sit alone with just my thoughts
The time to leave all stress behind
To sit and pen my thoughts

'
Just living
Joe Cole Jul 2015
After the guns fell silent
After the wounds have healed

(The opening words from a song)

The wounds in their flesh heal
But the wounds in their minds
Remain for eternity

Why do they do it? Answer the call
Whenever their countries have need
It's not politicians who answer the call
It not politicians who bleed
No, it's the boys and girls from their countries so fair
Who die in the name of liberty
Eight thousand miles away from home
To keep another country free
Afghanistan
Joe Cole Jul 2015
I tossed the dice
And lost
He drew an ace
I drew a three
He jumped the stream
I fell in
But then I won
The greatest prize of all
I won your heart
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