We live to draw lines with a shape of words,
to fill countless pages of ageless books.
Contained by boundaries of other lands,
they have shed themselves of warlords and poets.
And we, who live festooned,
to hidden verbena.
Beneath the shroud of thin skins,
our verbiage is peeled from the autumn tree-
yet, it thrives once again when spring returns -
And yesterdays become memories of
eminent, tomorrows.
we sigh-
but our world, is not at rest.
And how we become the sun, for the embosomed bloom.
Augur the gloom with rain; color it, with hues of a rainbow,
adding the sweet fragrance, it breathes for you.
Credence to perfection, is -- life’s flower.
But under stars of distant worlds, beneath them flow rivers blue, turned red.
Castles fall, by fray of distorted minds, driven by power to keel at their feet, innocent lives.
And we, who weal upon tyrants the mighty sword of ink,
with truths for freedom, will never be defeated.
For our words have life, and a breath of their own.
When a poet speaks, to a world of ravenous hearts…
It’s with palpable hope-
their eyes will open and ears will listen.
Author notes
not typical mal or is it?
“poets are not Gods or angels, they are spirited souls, among the living”
Malabu©2009
A contest entry
- Immortal (For Marc Creamore) by just rob.
40000 points, ended November 22, 42 entries
• next poem in this contest, • Add to finalists list, or remove from contest
your suggestions are always welcomed
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
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Typical, and oh so not, at once. I do read this as a bit of a departure, unabashadly heavy and, erm, solid. This is, perhaps, my fave of all I've read from you. Thank you.
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Very nice ...
and very nicely done. You might want to fix the typo here: driven by power to keel at their feet, innocent lives. (kneel at their feet)
I'd say you've fairly outdone yourself. Kudos on a job well done.
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thanks ecrivain...your input is always welcome... I chose keel with thoughts of those who collaps at the feet of tyrants...
These are just my humble thoughts in prose for those poets who write about the world in which we live...and feel they are in a small minority of excellence
unlike the major assembly of poets who share their hearts and minds of typical genre of emotions...I am awed by those who are in a class of their own -setting themselves apart from ordinary
as for me...I am a man of few words and write reflect of emotion
be well
mal
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The voice is indeed you Al even if the form is not the typical Al.
This part just took everything in my moment:
'we sigh-
but our world, is not at rest.'
simple and very fine.
Excellent work my friend.
HENSLEY
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This is typical Mal! The voice of knowing spills here, and your sharing with superb words of esteem and truth is a stunning tribute to every poet and most especially the honoree. This is very deserving of the giant that Marc is and the huge heart you wield from pen to parchment. There is power in these words, and I seriously feel for Rob in having to judge all the beauteous words left on the pages in this tribute/challenge.
The best to you in this contest dear heart. This is quite lovely and most honoring.
Much Love Always ♥
Renee
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From what I've read of your work, it is not typical, Albert. Of course, your "typical" is not a bad thing, in the least - I've read some of your poems that were quite impressive in their scope, tone and content. With this one, it seems that you've let go the reins and let the wild horse run free, as well it should. I'm sure Rob and Marc will be most pleased to discover what their inspiration has wrought. Good luck in the contest, Poet.
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