Poems Left Behind

….

A Poem 2

A Poem can set you free

Can give you wings

Can raise you to the light

Can make you see

Learn to hold on to a little poem, a little song

follow it wherever it takes you

in your dreams

A Poem has the quality of a prayer

That you gently recite

Say to yourself

Listen to a poem and what it sings

--A seed will in the dark

Obey the tree

Silverio DeMelo 

Poetry Corner

Poetry is the language of that other realm of our being

... Being in tune with poetry is being in tune with ourselves and the world

...beyond imagination.

Blinded by the Light

Take a pencil with which you write on a blank sheet of paper

Take a human being born sometime and somewhere

Living is leaving behind a string of memories-- is to dare

To become text with meaning, turn our being into letter

Each one of us was born, to write, to scribble, to draw

To be held by the hand of time and leave behind

Squiggles which will be read by time and time alone

Which meanings will have us shavings before we understand

Take this worn out stub of a pencil with lead for soul

Made many mistakes and erased them till it became dull

Was sharpened so many times, till a new was bought

Replaced, it was left at the bottom of an old drawer

With the new one, new thoughts came forward, they were formed

A poem rose, a sonnet surged, a sea of words gushed forth

Some poet became wrecked in waves of pure thought

Before you know it, he took the page, and tore it.

He took the pencil, broke it, threw it on the floor

There was a long silence and after the long silence, his sobbing

The sun outside shone as it always shone

He looked at it intently a long, long time till all around everythingturned dark

Children

Inner space created them from a surreal dream

invoked them from a depth

of life and timewhich only life can claim

chiseled in the dark of a mother’s womb

the alien forms

slowly budded in the warmth of night

through some blueprint of sorts

Born, if not strangled in their dreams

by some living nightmare

soon they woke from their voyage

through the past

so small and bare

There, outside, look,

they learn and grow

from day today

their eyes

clear crystals

are like spaceships

probing their way

Photons

they glow

in many an aurora borealis

as children romp

as children frolic

as children play

...and children

are here but life

bound for tomorrow

silverio gabriel de melo