Poets                                                          
Are
Not
Poets

By
Poems.
They
Must

Embrace
Humanity.

                        ­      La Poesía Día Muere

                                 Los
                                 Poetas
                                 No
                                 Son
                                 Poetas

                                 De  
                                 Poemas.
                                 Deben
                                 Abrazar

                                  A la
                                  Humanidad.


La Poésie de Jour Meurt

Les
poètes
sont
pas
des
poètes

de
poèmes.
Ils
doivent
embrasser

*l'humanité.

You shelter
The mystery and meaning
Of a thought, looking through
The incomparable charm
Of a muse
Cherished by enchantment...

You may subside...
Still, it would seem, the storm that
You hold
Stands to be an encumbrance,
Borne
By doubt and memory...

The clouds may leave
The rainbow may shroud
The apprehension that looms...
Yet, upon your coming...
Sadness and happiness
In my heart
Would be instilled...

I sit on a cliff to watch the
Sun as it rests at the vastness
Of ocean. Here, I found

A self chained by the oppressive
Landscapes of memories—measuring
The distance of a life lived in the

Folly of youth from the life
Lived in the youthful folly of life.
Life is a circular argument.

                A strange voice from the
 Wilderness utters the words of the
               World. I am compelled to

                                              Listen
        ­                                       Obey
                          Drift from my self.

I lived a life not of my own. Blown
By the wind. Riddled by doctrines
Of truths in multiple versions and

Renditions of power. Powerless I
Have become. Becoming, thus, is
Defined and defied by truths

Relative to utility. Living is an
Attempt in futility unless the myth
Of becoming is braved by believing

In oneness with one's self.
I sit on a cliff to watch the sun as it
Rises from the vastness of ocean.

Here, I find myself.

I am the wind.
You are the fire.
We inflame this earth
With passion and desires.

               not even a ray of light
         could penetrate this vacuum

               of darkness. we are
         buried beneath the *****

               of black hole, an abyss of
         reality beyond fantasy

I am the wind.
You are the fire.
We inflame this earth
Until the river of life

               extinguished our fusion
           with water and confusion