He who writes poetry

[Sweets America]

He who waters paper
With the ink of his truth
Doodles at first, the mind beyond senses,
With the smile of a man who feels
The lightning approaching.

He who writes will make hearts breathe;
Millions of hearts from all horizons
Will nod, grateful.
They will demand more
To store for bitter days
When their own letters sound meaningless.

One of them, perhaps,
The segregated heart,
Will feel on his shoulder
The warmth of compassion.
And with a beating hope,
Will fold the page,
Place it in his pocket,
And wait for a new one.

[PrinceMyshkin]

He who waters paper
With the ink of his truth
Doodles at first, the mind beyond senses,
With the smile of a man who feels
The lightning approaching.

He who writes will make hearts breathe;
Millions of hearts from all horizons
Will nod, grateful.
They will demand more
To store for bitter days
When their own letters sound meaningless.

One of them, perhaps,
The segregated heart,
Will feel on his shoulder
The warmth of compassion.
And with a beating hope,
Will fold the page,
Place it in his pocket,
And wait for a new one.

What is especially lovely to me about this is the way you use language that echoes a little the King James version of the Old Testament, but without falling into a pseudo-prophetic tone. There is a fluency here that is unpretentious and credible.

[kiz_paws]

I loved your poem, Sweets. My favorite line would be the first line of stanza 2. Cheers! :)

[ampoule]

Sweets...this is really really nice. I like the whole thing but I have an affinity for these lines...




With the smile of a man who feels
The lightning approaching. I can picture it and I have felt it.

They will demand more
To store for bitter days
When their own letters sound meaningless.

[jon1jt]

ah, so this is it...let's see...

well, i somewhat like the first stanza, though the opening line is just a bit silly.
"ink of his truth" ??? what is that, can you explain this to me a bit, please?

"mind beyond senses" --- again, too nebulous. give me a place to stand, something for my senses to chew on. you give me hay, and i'm not a horse.

the rest of the poem is...um...Hallmark-y.

[Sweets America]

ah, so this is it...let's see...

well, i somewhat like the first stanza, though the opening line is just a bit silly.
"ink of his truth" ??? what is that, can you explain this to me a bit, please?

"mind beyond senses" --- again, too nebulous. give me a place to stand, something for my senses to chew on. you give me hay, and i'm not a horse.

the rest of the poem is...um...Hallmark-y.

Jon,
I think I have nothing else to tell you after reading your PMs to me where you just despise me and Jerry out of meanness, and even about physical features. That is quite pathetic, even more when we remember that you claimed that the admins should ban someone because the person's comments were 'inappropriate'.
You will understand that your comment on this poem cannot be taken seriously because you do know why you felt the need to write something mean.


Jerry,
Thank you for your reply. I hadn't even thought of the possibility that my poem could sound prophetic.


Kiz and Ampoule, I am happy that you like the poem.


To all the others, I will of course accept any negative comment as long as they do not come from a desire to be mean.

[Scheherazade]

W a r n i n g

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