Journal - #9 Poetry

Without poetry, I'm sure the universe would fall into a chaotic world of suppressed memories of epic proportions, and soon shall be a paradox in the space time continuum. But I digress. Poetry is simply, one of the most magical things this universe holds. Its limits are endless, and its possibilities infinite.

Many people confuse poetry with simply lines and lines of rhyming and barrels filled with either happiness, hate, or any other emotion slammed down our throats. Well, sometimes it is, but it's also many other things. It's the true feelings we feel inside of us. Whether we write about something we know or don't know, or however much we try to lie about our emotions, they always seem to pour onto the paper like water.

I'm not going to lie, at this very moment, I couldn't name 5 poets I know, and like. I don't consider Shakespeare a poet, because he was more than a poet. He wrote plays, and instead of poems, he wrote epics (and I don't mean the term epic for narrative poems). He wrote tales that have been remembered longer than most stories in our world. Romeo & Juliet, The Merchant of Venice, Julius Caesar, the list goes on of classic tales that Shakespeare wrote, "back in the day.".

Without poetry, there wouldn't be music whether it be vocal, or instrumental. Instrumental music is a type of poetry without words. It's poetry of sounds that are very pleasant to the ears. Music has changed my life a lot, especially because I see myself as a musician playing multiple instruments. In that case, I guess I write poetry more than I think I do.

Poetry is how we express ourselves when we can't utter the words ourselves, whether we be too frightened, embarrassed, or too happy. If you like a girl, or guy, and you want to talk about or to them, maybe you can't talk to them because your frightened, because a lot of people have a hard time talking to girls they like. Write a poem about them, and maybe as your writing you may realize you don't know them enough, don't like them, or you might find the strength to talk to them when your finished. It's the same thing with anger. If your very angry at someone, and you don't want to get into an argument, or a fight, write about it. Write a song, a poem, or even a story if that's how you roll.

Most of the time I can't rhyme without a rhyming dictionary by my side, because you never know what words you could be missing. I've learned new words doing that. How many words can I rhyme with bird off the top of my head? Herd, nerd, word, etc. Here are some of the words I found in a rhyming dictionary; byrd, curd, gird, heard, jerde, spurred, etc. Also, the beauty of poetry is if you don't have a rhyme, you can break the boundaries and forget the rhyming scheme and just pour your mind onto a piece of paper. Then if you feel that it is very good, you can go back and edit it later to rhyme, look presentable and over all sound better than random words written on a piece of paper.

Ode To Music

An Ode To Guitar

How do you write to a guitar?
Do you not write with the tool?
Which could turn you into a rockstar
The skill of guitar can't be claimed by a fool
The sounds of your guitar could be the angels song
or the deep screech of a prowling boar
If you can't care for the craft, you will not do it right
Your talent will surely lead you to be wrong
But if you ask the guitar for more
It will give it to you, but only if you are polite

Life - Sonnet Poetry

-So why does the wind blow from day to day?
-Is it because of the powers that be,
-Or the silence that dwells upon the bay?
-For nature within us is hard to see
-Oh why does the moon call upon the odd?
-Is it because of the opposite light,
-Or is it the moonlit city of God?
-For nature within us guides us to light
-When man and woman can no longer meet
-They'll shiver and break till the end of time
-But until that day we shall live lifes treat
-and listen carefully to life's sweet chime
-All who oppose this and nature itself
-Have not lived enough to choose for oneself

America - Imitation Poem

ORIGINAL POEM

AMERICA
Henry van Dyke

I love thine inland seas,
Thy groves of giant trees,
Thy rolling plains;
Thy rivers' mighty sweep,
Thy mystic canyons deep,
Thy mountains wild and steep,
All thy domains;

Thy silver Eastern strands,
Thy Golden Gate that stands
Wide to the West;
Thy flowery Southland fair,
Thy sweet and crystal air,
O land beyond compare,
Thee I love best!

The New Poem - A Day in the life of me

I hate those stupid fleas,
Your orchard of putrid peas,

My rolling trains;

Thy chiclets are very cheap,

Thy cable tv, steep,

Thy children always asleep,

All thy restrains;

Thy silver western bands,

Thy court appearance demands

Shy to the best;

Thy growly northland bear,

Thy bitter and crunchy pear,

Oh man what's with the hair?

Well, I've seen worse...

Trading Your Words For Freedom - Lyrical Poem

The man in the corner wouldn't face the crowd
So the cops took him downtown

They beat him, and they bashed him, and they taught him right

but he wouldn't spill a bean, so he put up a fight

He said, "hey, hey, hey what'chya want from me?

I'm just a city man born to be free"

They tossed him in a room full of black and white

but he still wouldn't talk, he used all his might

Trading your words for freedom
Don't get caught in a lie

Don't get caught as a spy

Your trading your words for freedom

You haven't lived till you've lived on the wild side

Livin' on the edge of a knife

A man without freedom, is in need of a guide

but the man in the corner is likely to die

But oh, what do you want from what the devil beholds

I'll give you a'little piece of advice

When you play with the enemy and don't watch your back

You can almost guarantee that your gonna get whacked

Trading your words for freedom

Don't be asking why

Or your gonna die

Trading your words for freedom

It's the price your gonna pay

Come what may

Trading your words for freedom

A Shattered Crystal - Narrative Poem

Once upon a dark night,
the sky was black, the clouds flash'd white
Man and beast beneath moon
Hid within their perpetual doom
Mountains of stone tower the earth
Covering the plateau with shadowy gloom
Upon the altar the crystal lay
Shining brightly, at the close of day
An elderly man, no younger than the trees,
with eyes as piercing as an iron blade
Fooling with powers he could not define,
will surely be his end of mind
He naively spoke to the watching sky,
"Thy scorching soul, shall be revived"
as he waited for a Godly reply
the moon was silent, the sky remain'd blind
A silver stream of light, fell quickly from the sky
Striking the crystal, and the man at his thighs
He felt no pain, for it was too quick
The crystal did shatter, as well as his mind
The sun now rises, far beyond this land
The clouds float high, remaining white
Man and beast beneath the sun,
shall keep their mind, until they die

Pride of a Race - Mathew Piccirillo

A slave's life is all you understand,
the war to come has been written in the sand,
not only with our spears,
but with everything we have


There's nothing certain in one man's life,
but that he must lose it, beneath a knife,
Give thy men a place to stand,
and we shall move the Earth again


For if I bring my army in their lands,
we'll hold our spears within our hands,
Give them nothing in return,
except the steel within your sword