Art in Us

Gratitude is not only the greatest of virtues, but the parent of all others. Cicero

There goes the beating
Of my heart, making me feel
The art in us all.

© 2019 The Poets Peace

Fellow with the Cello

The most important trip you may take in life is meeting people halfway. Henry Boyle

Hello, I’m a fellow that plays the cello
With my crafty hands when I’m feeling mellow.
Wanting to put people in a mood yellow
Brighter then the colour of my skin negro.


I’m a fellow that likes to play the cello
Even when my hearts been pierced by cupids arrow
So that tomorrow I cannot feel the sorrow
Of losing the gifts bestowed by Apollo-


The son of Zeus that blessed me play the cello
Even at times when my mind was about to blow
And I thought I’d make it not into tomorrow
For I’m a fellow from an age long ago.


For I’m a fellow from an age long ago
That has for many a long year played his cello
Seated by the stream in the forest below
Where many animals have come to say hello.


Like the bird many call the swooping sparrow
Always drops down to peck at my long afro
Whenever it finds me playing the cello
Seated by the stream in the forest below.


One lovely day as I was playing my cello
And enjoying the sweet taste of homemade jello
It flew by to ask if it could perhaps borrow
My cello for a banquet scheduled tomorrow.


I stopped playing my cello
And I swallowed all my jello
Before I looked the bird in the eye and said “NO!
You my friend shall never have my cello”.


© 2019 The Poets Peace

Back In Action

Luck is a dividend of sweat. The more you sweat, the luckier you get.

Ray Kroc

Hey guys, its been two long weeks since last i updated my blog and its irked me a plenty being away from you guys for fourteen long days. Only my heart will ever know the magnitude of my missing you.

Though i hated doing it, it felt right to take a short break to regather my thoughts and to re-focus my mindset as a friend once advised me to always take short recovery breaks after working hard, which is something my pen will willingly testify to.

God knows i needed the rest, after wielding the powers of creativity in the form of penning a poem or more everyday, i was headed for a path of stumbling and falling over in the street as a consequence of exhaustion. Only a poet knows the toll it takes on their mind and body sacrificing a piece of their sanity to write poetry on a consistent basis.

I was gonna go completely crazy if i didn’t put my pen down sooner. But i’m back now and i’m glad to have taken a break as i’m back with a fresh, empty canvas just waiting in anticipation to be painted on with the beautiful message of love and peace.

I want to take the time to thank you for not deciding to unfollow me during the time i was away. In fact, thanks a lot for getting me to the 100 follower mark. You’re the best.

Forgotten Dreams

Things work out best for those who make the best of how things work out.

John Wooden

Another day has passed me by
But, i still can't recall my dreams to memory.
Can't seem to remember. The more i try, the more
Dreams always seem to elude me.
Each time it irks me more and more
For i would like to remember my dreams.
Good ones as well as bad ones--
Haunt me in my memories, when i cannot recall them.
I then begin to wonder
Just how hard i have to ponder--
Killing that which prevent's my dreams
Like an anti-dream journal, lucid dreams pass me by--
Many, many, many times. Yet,
Not a single
One have i dug from the rubble of my memory.
Please, please whichever GOD be listening,
Quiet my mind
Rest my thoughts
So that i may recall my dreams.
The more i try to
Understand my lack of
Visuals on what my dream was about, that's
When i feel myself loosing the dream.
X-mas always comes
Year after year. Yet the--
Zealousness of my mind never to remember my dreams, forever stays the same.

© 2019 The Poets Peace

A Nightmare within a Dream

When everything seems to be going against you, remember that the airplane takes off against the wind, not with it.

Henry Ford
Image by Bellinon from Pixabay

it all started so well,
when i began to fall
asleep on my bed,
no nightmares to b' had.

when i began to dream.
that i slept beneath a beam,
of the night's brightest smile,
and i woke to walk a mile,
on a scorched, barren earth
that laughed in the face of death.

i walked till my feet became numb.
walked till i stumbled into a stump--
on which was inscribed my name
and the day, died my life's flame--
i stood there, looking at my grave
with sore eyes, i buried my grief
and walked on to no great relief.

grave after grave did i tread by
of men and women that did defy,
the bad deeds of those that did belie
the dreams of those, never wanted to die.

with sore eyes, i buried my grief
and walked on to no great relief--
back to the place where i fell sleep.
just so i would have time to weep,

for the life i did not get to keep!

© 2019 The Poets Peace