Poetry
Is something that you feel
Is something that you write
Is something that is wonderful
Is something that is close to your heart
Is something that is special
Is something to hide or shine
Is someone who can love
Is someone who can share
Is someone who can care
Is someone who can tell a short story
Is someone who can explain say without saying words
Is something I love to do
Is something that comes easy when in the mood words  flow just like the wind
Some make sense and some don’t
Poetry

When floating on down avenues of deep subconscious
remember to stare upwards for at least 10 minutes a day
and contemplate the life of a cloud;

To that transitory vapour,
project with your iris the world you wish to manifest
in passing minutes
towards that passing station-

internal vision dominates
the human mind speculates
and accommodates,
what it wants to see -

with each passing minute
with each wasted day

Life flashes before eyes
concrete and grass
lying down and getting lost
in a deep death that breeds
everything and nothing,
Dissipating contradictions in the sky.