Books are like flowers
Their words pollen seeds,
Carried far and wide
By all those who read.
With other words merge
To new life ignite
In the fertile minds
Of all those who write.
There tended, nourished
For hour after hour.
Encouraged to grow,
To once more flower.

" The law of the jungle is the law of a gang. An eye for an eye. A tooth for a tooth. "


The page unfolds.  The best story told. Basically I'm handing out free gold.
Returning ears with interest. You can never borrow to your advantage peasants. Why pay for something to prove you are not a slave? Plato's cave. As I leave they stay. Why do they want me to lead and pave the way? They say it's great !  and you will get paid. I said you gay. I will never hand my **** out to those in need and to those who pray. That's how you get slayed. I will only help those who are me. Who take action by maxing out their mental capacity. And If they do. They're no longer food. They seem so rude and selfish towards being free. It so beautiful to me. A construct painted by true belief.  Just read.

Speak up is what poets do
Speed up attention  
To a matter of Concern
With all honesty

Unknown ears open
To reflect in accord
Along with the poet
On atrocities weighing down
On a human heart

Poet is restless until
All perceptions are penned
Only to feel empty and alone
With his own thoughts

Solitude fills the cup
Of the parched Sonnetist
Once again to compose
Percetptions of his mind

Speak up is what poets do
Speed up attention  
To a matter of Concern
With all honesty

Unknown ears open
To reflect in accord
Along with the poet
of atrocities weighing down
on a human heart

The boy sitting by his locker
While the horde heads to Wendy's
Likes to read Emily and Sylvia.

The girl with the flowing floral muumuu
And tatoo reading Nature likes
Ralph, George and Robert.

The man standing in the apse
Of St. Patrick's reads
Milton and Blake.

The mother reads Dr. Seuss, often,
The same story, over and over again.

And who reads me?
All of the above?
None of the above?

As I sat at my old PC, and stirred the spoon around my tea.
As on my cigarette inhale I clicked to look at my e-mail.
My inbox nearly exploded with messages I'm overloaded.
All from new friends that came to me, since I joined Hello Poetry.

The views I had were in the k's with lots of comments and such praise.
I haven't met those who see, the efforts of my poetry.
But many came and took the time, to read my words and thoughts in rhyme.
The things they say are really kind and absolutely blew my mind.

I answer them with thankful glee that they should take this time for me.
It spurs me on, I feel inspired from all the kindness I've acquired.
I hope that I can pass on more and that my writing isn't poor.
So I type on and get to know them to thank them for the "Daily Poem",

One word can
Give birth to a whole poem
And one poem
Can give birth to a creative idea
One idea can
Inspire one or many
One poet can illuminate
The minds of many
One moment of curiousness
Can light the mind
Of the poet
The thoughts
Now will have opinions
And creativity
Has led the way
In igniting minds
An idea
That fueled a culture
The one
Has now become many

it is written in the Olde Booke of Life
that when the Lion went unto the wild
to have its fill, when first it felt Hunger
the King of Beasts saw two creatures:
a human, under a tree, reading a book;
and a human, under a tree, writing a book
and the Lion ate the reader
for its inner voice told the King of Beasts:
"Eat the reader - for that is digestible;
but partake not of the writer
for it is susceptible to cramps
and worse, may cause a block"

And since then hath the Lion
lived in this wisdom:
*Eat of the reader, never of the writer