Shelley’s Steely Soul

Kevin Michael Bloor

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 Offline)
  • Published: July 4th, 2021 10:48
  • Comment from author about the poem: for my unappreciated poet friends
  • Category: Reflection
  • Views: 28
  • Users favorite of this poem: Accidental Poet
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Comments +

Comments4

  • Fay Slimm.

    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.

    • Kevin Michael Bloor

      Thank you, Fay. Always appreciate your feedback and support. 😉

    • Accidental Poet

      Kevin, you're a poet's poet. Great writing here. ; )

      • Kevin Michael Bloor

        Thanks AP. I always try to think of you all when I'm penning my poor little rhymes. 😉

        • Accidental Poet

          Poor little rhymes? You can't fool me Kevin, your poetry is award winning stuff far as I'm concerned. Top shelf work. ; )

          • Kevin Michael Bloor

            Thanks AP

            • Accidental Poet

              Credit where credits due Kevin. ; )

            • Goldfinch60

              Wonderful words Kevin and so very true.

              Andy

            • L. B. Mek

              '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...



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