I swear by Shelley’s steely soul,
as poets, we have ups and downs.
Some lows, some highs, some times of trouble
(some bastard’s bound to burst your bubble!)
I vow, sometimes, we’re high as steeple.
and poets can be placid people,
until some sad, sick sons on bitches
unpick from poet’s cloak the stitches!
I say, we’re only killing time,
composing raw and raucous rhyme,
yet, sorrow in our souls is sowin'
a mustard seed of faith that’s growin'!
I swear by Shelley’s steely soul
As poets, we’re transparent people,
with no one’s mind we plan on messin’;
believe us; we’re hell-bent on blessin’!
-
Author:
Blue-eyed Bolla (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: July 4th, 2021 10:48
- Comment from author about the poem: for my unappreciated poet friends
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 28
Offline)
Comments3
And loud applause from this female poet who agrees with every perceptive line. Thanks a load for sending us Shelley's steely soul for we really do need it when our up become down. Great read Kevin.
Thank you, Fay. Always appreciate your feedback and support. 😉
Wonderful words Kevin and so very true.
Andy
'Some lows, some highs, some times of trouble
(some bastard’s bound to burst your bubble!)'..
ain't that a fundamental truth for all of life, dear Poet
still
we have our scribbles, imbued
with potent: liberating traits of serenity
while they have their pathetic zeal
for destruction and malicious malignancy;
I know which side, I'd rather be
if given a choice, and so - I remain
ever grateful, it was chosen - for me...
Thank you, LB. And I agree with you.
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