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Three Short poems To Peruse.

Updated on February 22, 2010

Reasons to Write.

 

 

Poetry can
be such therapy
to the disillusioned,
the lonely, the hurting,
but in the end
it is only words,
temporary harbors
to wallow in.

One must still
live in the spaces
between the lines,
occupying the emptiness,
but always reaching out
perhaps to other kindred souls,
imprisoned in the bars
of their own script.

There are no answers,
Rhyme and reason are elusive,
but one can face the truth
and overcome it at times,
by simply taking notes
along the way.

Global Cooling.

There is something
about an iceberg
in the summer time,
with a short length
of lumber driven
through it,
floating in mid-air,
above a gaping maw,
just before it melts
into a refreshing splash
of delectable delight.

A bit of global cooling
on quite a much smaller scale,
with little to fear but
some red stained lips
and tongue.

I was always a sucker
for a red popsicle.

Dirge For A Broken Heart.

Balanced at


the edge of E flat


strung out on a ledge


5 stories above an alleyway,


she put Janis Joplin to shame,


wailing soprano versions


of D...C... B...and... A,


that ended abruptly


as she fell


for him.

©~MFB III

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    • Artamia profile image

      Artamia 7 years ago from GTA, Canada

      • REASONS to LIVE

      :: Reasons to Write

      ==================

      Poetry can

      be such therapy

      to the disillusioned,

      the lonely, the hurting,

      but in the end

      it is only words,

      temporary harbors

      to wallow in.

      One must still

      live in the spaces

      between the lines,

      occupying the emptiness,

      but always reaching out

      perhaps to other kindred souls,

      imprisoned in the bars

      of their own script....""" by MFB III

      ¡¡¡ GREAT POETRY and MORE !!!

      PS

      Real poetry is to lead a beautiful life...

      :: MATSUO BASHO - LIVING POETRY

      "Real poetry," said Basho, "is to lead a beautiful life... To live poetry

      is better than to write it." And whenever he saw one of his young

      students being rude, in a fit of anger, or otherwise acting unworthily,

      he would gently lay his hand on the arm of the youth and say:

      "... But this is not poetry! This is not poetry..."

      HAIKU by MATSUO BASHO (1644 – November 28, 1694) - a gentle soul, a poet who was a master of "haiku"

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