Poetry

A perturbing feeling which

I turn, twist, embellish with words;

It is the honor to be able to feel truly,

both happiness and pain.

It is that absurd thing which comes from the soul

And I nurture with the beats of the heart.

Communication

with those whom feel the same thing.

It’s the tenderness we feel for a

fragile, elderly lady;

the joy to see a smiling baby.

It is the tool which we induce women into whoring;

the pains we share with the sad and unlucky.

Expression of the punishment given by love.

It’s the smile we give without hopes of a return.

The turmoil of a cascading spring of emotions

which surfacing break the chest in a thousand pieces

bringing in our lives song, romance, tenderness….

It is the wanting that every word be beautiful,

sincere, honest, and passionate.

It’s flowering love.

The remembrance of the savor of a sweet kiss,

a caress, desire.

Poetry is nature, a flowering lilac, the sun,

the kneeling in front of an altar revering the saints.

It’s watching birds fly over the waves of the ocean….

It is a sweet invite.

It is lived in pain and solitude.

The remembering of the missing love;

the crying in the nights that do not listen;

It is falling asleep with a face wet by tears….

Still loving….

Regretting…..

Hoping.

This and much,… much more is Poetry.