A world where poetry is king,
No such thing, as misunderstanding.
Not one poet would have more worth,
No one voice singing only one verse,
Not one of us louder or more prized,
Just a harmony of words, crafted by wise
Poetic altos, sopranos and tenors,
United and joined in poetic endeavours.
Metaphorical notes,
Subliminal tones,
Eloquent highs,
Deep mystical lows.
Crescendos of adjectives, nouns and verbs,
Symphonic creations, composed of words,
All the most important
Documents, deeds and laws
Scripted by poets in metaphors.
Declarations, declared delicately,
Advertising confined to the cemetery.
Pronouncements, pronounced eloquently,
Spin doctors burned as effigies.
Announcements, announced emphatically.
Catch phrases not fitting grammatically.
Eulogies written with poetic love,
Not long lost messages from beings above.
All delivery done with sincerity,
No lies to haunt eternity.
Truth, honour and respect,
For fellow world dwellers yet to be met.
Love, trust and understanding,
Clearly shared in poetic meanderings.
A world where `the word' rules as it should,
Could only be birthed by those who could,
Weave words with the knowledge of the unity of us,
Mankind sharing through, a unique opus.
Haiku: Poet Poo
Penned thoughts on paper
Excreted emotions out
Words are poet poo
No Time At All
From distant memory I recall,
A world where everything was all.
Where no divisions could be seen,
And we were all the in-between,
Where wordlessness was right and true,
And no-one wondered what they knew.
Where poetry remained unsaid,
And beauty wandered free instead,
Where freedom was a natural state,
And there was no such thing as hate.
Where flesh and bone and walls diminished,
And no-one knew where they finished,
Where each of us rolled into one,
And we had all become undone.
From distant memory I recall,
A time when there was no time at all.
My God's Better Than Your God
My god's better than your god,
My special book tells me so,
It tells me how to think, who to love,
And how my life should go.
My god's better than your god,
He waits only for me,
Your name's not on his list,
You are my enemy.
My god's better than your god,
His book is filled with truth,
Your book's all wrong you see,
I have all the proof.
My god's better than your god,
His ways are just and right,
His laws are like a roadmap,
That guide me to the light.
My god's better than your god,
Yours is weird and wrong,
I have never heard of him,
And he's been around too long.
My god's better than your god,
He's all shiny and real,
Your god belongs in hell,
He's not the real deal.
My god's better than your god,
Cause he's without sin,
You're a heathen non-believer,
Not good enough for him.
My god's better than your god,
Yours has a silly name,
And your book is stupid,
Really dumb and lame.
I will go to heaven
Cause I'm better than you,
I can do anything,
I'm amongst the chosen few.
Cause my god's better than your god,
You have to say its true,
Cause if you don't,
My god will come,
And make you suffer till you do.
Growing Older Faces
Each day multiplied with night,
Tallying all the dark and light,
Till days are weeks and months and years,
Calculated in laughter, love and tears,
Making a map of special places,
Etching experience on growing-older faces,
Imprinting in intricate line traces,
Shadow falling between spaces.
Growing old would be fine,
With wizened mind,
Still keeping time,
Words that rhyme,
Clearly defined,
No slurred diction,
Arthritic affliction,
Or medical addiction,
Mind contradiction,
False life depiction.
Life aged soul,
Never feeling old,
Or suffering with cold.
Just old eyes,
Revealing from the inside,
Mysteries unravelled,
Roads and oceans travelled,
Lessons learned,
Lovers spurned,
Friends united,
Enemies spited,
Wrongs righted,
Days nighted
Poem © 2004 tinalouise, all rights reserved
