Poets write poetry sharing wisdom of roads not taken their gray brain sprouts multicolored flowers of visions seeking love splattered by remnants of great lovers past ankored daggers in heart Lovers paint their own ark A poets spinning top is art lasting longer as it may their name De Plume may dictate ageless candor but their tops spinning out off ballance topples and falls;
Poets and lovers notice people aren't tops, karma cause and effect Action innaction dictates the inevitability of their top's last spin,
Even of poetry What may last forever? new poets are birthed like seasons do returning thus the spinning top of poets and lover's vise. ~~~~~~~~ By: Karijinbba All Rights.
Inspired by life and poets galore On HP and ancient poetry of lovers of life liberty and the pursuit of happiness That We The People the lover poets live on.
I am not my words, Nor am I the letters from which they are formed; I am a beating drum, A cacophony, a riot keeping pace with mortal time; Spinning order thriftily, So as not to cheapen the divinely proclaimed language of the soul.
‘Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought: So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing.’ - T. S. Eliot
i'm dizzy. the boxes full of sadness that have been packed away in the shadows of my brain since march have been opened again now they spin around in my brain making me numb to everything surrounding me