The Language Of The Soul

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“Poetry is the language of the soul;

Poetic Prose, the language of my heart.

Each line must flow as in a song,

and strike a chord that rings forever.

To me, words are music!”

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― Lori R. Lopez

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Elfje:           (Cinquain)

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swearing

in vain

not an oath

very poor language skills

vulgarities

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Haiku:

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crickets loud chirping

pollen thick enough to see

soon summer will bloom

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Poem:

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he skipped the rock across the pond
reflecting how his life did the same
with each touch ripples were spawned
like scions to carry on the family name

the undulations distorted his reflection
his memory was likewise confused
wandering, he sought some direction
his soul was very tired and abused

he was not growing old gracefully
he regretted the youth he had wasted
the ego was always acting ostentatiously
his habit was to always be inebriated

could there be another way of living
would another fox hole prayer work
should the world be forgiving
was this the prelude to going berserk

in real life there are no coincidences
a man with a plan crossed his path
just another of God’s mysterious incidents
a solution to calming his insane wrath

there was a book to give him guidance
a fellowship to welcome him home
he learned to live within the silence
how to survive the complex syndrome

holding on to his new found discovery
enjoying the life of a blessed recovery

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ME and the Boss

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https://michaelerb.wordpress.com

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https://meandtheboss.com

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Uniting

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“Poetry is

the art of

uniting pleasure

with truth.”

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― Samuel Johnson

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Elfje:

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noise

vulgar speech

display of ignorance

oaths among the stupid

swearing

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Haiku:

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God lives forever

time measured by the light year

man’s life but a blink

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Poem:

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can I tell a lie
grandiose ego I
makes me want to cry
the morals which I defy

Mother taught me right
the church made  me fear sin
the commandments I thought were trite
it was always more important to win

t’was instant gratification that I sought
never dreamt of the consequence
tried every sin that could be bought
the highs were far above common sense

struck sober by a God incident
was almost restored to sane thinking
the addiction was false imprisonment
controlled by habits that were stinking

to thine own self be true
a better way of living
a Higher Power to see me through
enjoying a life I thought was missing

I cannot tell a lie
I no longer want to be that bad guy

ME and the Boss

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https://michaelerb.wordpress.com

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https://meandtheboss.wordpress.com

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