THE ANGEL CALLED POETRY

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The Angel Called Poetry

She stepped out of clouds in a dream one night

Into my waning fire

Citing hints that she'd been sent

To ignite my dead desire.

Whispering words below her breath

She bade me to come nearer

In trepidation, I leaned in

But I wanted so to hear her.

Poetry is life and life it's heart

She said and waved her hand

And I inspire the world to write

Be you woman, child or man.

Give me poetry, I begged 

I need it like the air

For I've been blocked by mind distress

And no poetry is there.

Oh, it is there, my frustrated friend

And you will fulfill your task

I'll put the words within your heart

You only need to ask.

I'm asking now, I said to her

As she surveyed my home

Bereft of love and lover, yet

She gave to me a poem.

And what a poem that I did write!

As she whispered so softly

The Poem of Poems, a magical poem

The angel gave to me.

And now I stand before the world

My soul is bared and stark

As I recite in this bright light

What was written in the dark.

The angel called Poetry

The beautiful one

With a heart full of joy

And a face like the sun.

She came from the Heavens

And the Sea filled with words

Bringing them to those poets

Whose prayers she's heard.

And I know she heard mine

For she appeared then to me

Stepping out of the clouds

And fresh from that Sea.

Giving me words

That I've never used yet

Burning them in my brain

So I will not forget.

And I write and I write

As my glad heart keeps humming

And I rhyme and I rhyme

And the poems just keep coming.

But there is one special poem

Gathered out of that Sea

That she gave me to write

To bring Love back to me.

And I'm writing it now

On the door to your heart

And it binds us forever

And will not let us part.

Do you hear it, my love?

Does your soul hear somehow?

Every line calls your name

Bids you come to me now.

And I feel her still watching

From that place far above

The Angel called Poetry

From the land that's called Love.

©by Voo

February 21, 2019

1:08 a.m.

inspired by someone

from the Land of Love

on the other side of DREAMS.....

Place Called Love

IMAGINING YOU

Just My Imagination

Imagining You

Is it just my imagination
Or are you really real?
Are you really holding me right now
And making me to feel....

That all my dreams might come to pass
And all my hopes come true
Are you really telling me to dream
But dream of only you?

You need not ask that question, love
For there is no one else
That can make me dream such magic things
Not even my own self.

I do not know where you came from
What star from whence you fell
What moon beam dropped you in my life
For the sun won't even tell.

One day I woke and you were here
Where you'd never been before
Walking up my garden path
And knocking on my door.

The bluebirds serenaded 
The rose expressed perfume
The buttercups stood up and danced
With the moon flower and the moon.

And the sound of music filled the air
Pianos, violins
Saxophones and guitar strings
From the hands of holy men.

I looked around to see if I
Had died and gone to Heaven
For you were an angel standing there
That my heart had surely beckoned.

But then you smiled and shook your head
No, I am real, you see
For the angels heard you when you cried
And they have dispatched me.

For I was crying, too, you  know
And longing for your love
And wondering if we'd ever meet
And they watched us from above.

It's not imagination
No matter how you feel
We may have been born in that good place
But you and I are real.

And I have come to take you to
That paradise you seek
It's in a world you may not know
For your heartsight has grown weak.

The world that lives in here, you said
And pointed to your heart
The place that love has always been
Where we've never been apart.

And now we'll abide forever there
Where none can tear asunder
And you won't have to imagine me
Or ever have to wonder.

And I gave my hand and gave my heart
To the man that came that  day
Who walked out of my hopes and dreams
And here will always stay.

 

Kiss of Life

©by Voo

February 18, 2019
10:49 p.m.

DEAR KEVIN WALSH a spur of the moment write for someone very special

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
With your feet in your head
And your brains in your shoes
You can steer yourself
Any direction you choose
kevin, age 9


                                                  
                                    
 DEAR KEVIN WALSH:

Kevin comes in like a rain storm

With his poetry

Washing away the dust of life

Off of your weary bones

Cleaning away the muck and mire

And making you feel human again.

Then he shutters the sun

And does a happy dance

Around the moon

Just because he can

And oh, how we love to watch him

Hear him, see him, know him

Just happy to be in his widening circuit. 

And just when things get darkest

He flies in on his magic carpet

And uncovers the sun again

And you stand and watch in amazement

As flowers rise up out of the concrete

And fill your hands

With beauty

And your nostrils 

Full of honeysuckle.

He tells the most amazing tales

Tales you want to believe

Tales you want to live in

And partake in

In some small way

Because he can take the most mundane

Subjects and make them

Live in a newness of life

That was never there before.

A perpetual boy,

Now a man,

But only on the outside

Inside he is Aladdin

And Frodo,

Peter Pan,

And

Robin Hood

All rolled into one

Marvelous, 

Magical 

Creature

Known as Kevin.

And we love him

For who he is

And we love him

For who he was

And we need him

To always stay in reach

Because we all need

People like him in our lives

To remind us that this is not

All that there is, 

This routine, ho hum, dog eat dog existence

Out here alone

Where poetry hides it's face

And waits for those

Who seek it out

And recognize it's worth

In this darkening world.

Kevin is one such as this

Finding poetry and magic

In every raindrop,

Every beam of sun, 

Every abandoned car

And old shoe

For he is not of this earth

But from a far distant land

On the other side of Heaven

Where poets come from

Where they only speak the language

Of poetry

And all their dialogues rhyme.

When true poets meet,

We always recognize one another

Even if we have never met before

We know one another by the spirit,

Our hearts

And the glow that emanates

From our fingers

As we write magic words

That take your heart away

To that place from whence we came

And make it real to you.

Kevin lived most of his life

Without having known his true talent,

His true nature

He thought he was just an ordinary boy

Until one day

He wrote a poem

And then another

And another

And amazingly he knew he was special

And no longer alone.

For suddenly

He was surrounded by poets

From near and far

And we encircled him in our arms

And embraced him with our hearts

And we showed him how it felt

To be loved

And he loved us back

And healed us, too, and cheered us

For we were homesick also

For that distant land

And never knew it.

And he told us tales about home

And made us remember how good it was,

How sweet it was,

How dear it was to remember

And write about

And share with those who need

A little magic in their lives

And for this, Kevin,

We are appreciative,

We are thankful.

And we are constantly waiting

And yearning with each passing day,

For you to take us back into your world

And read and learn and play again

The games you played as a 9 year old

Now living in the body of a man

That most of us have yet to meet

And yet love so much

 With all our grateful hearts.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

(bless you Kevin Walsh

for the joy you have brought into

our lives. Never stop writing poetry.

Never grow up. Never stop believing in magic.

And never forget us, your friends.)

©By Voo

February 14, 2019

2:25 a.m.

VALENTINE EVE dedicated to all those single people out there gritting their teeth

        Valentine Eve

    The day of love, it looms on the horizon now

    Teasing me with it's rose and balloon 

    And teddy bear

    The memories of those sweet, sweet days

    And magical nights of wine and candle

    Long slow dances and kisses

    That promised love unending

    But ended all the same

    Forever and a day, you said

    And I agreed and wrote it down

    In my book of remembrance

    And saved it with the cards and hearts

    And pressed flowers that I would

    Not have sold for gold

    Valentine's Day, unfunny, unsweet

    Unlovely, unlooked forward to

    Looming on the horizon now.....

    The worst day of the year

    For those with shattered hearts.

    ©by Voo

    Feb 13, 2005

 9:28 p.m.

OF MONSTERS AND FEELINGS a collab with Nick Nguyen

Of Monsters and Feelings

Long days passed

As I rested 

My pounding head

On my cold hands

Reflecting 

A memory

Now like 

A shattered 

Glass mirror.

It started with

A heartbeat

Rising ever

So slightly

Next came pain

Like hot needles

Protruding quickly

Through my skin

And a dull pain 

In my stomach

Ruining all my nights.

With the realization came the terror

And the terror turned to worse

Worse than any word so spoken

In conversation or in verse.

I had never known such anguish

Such despair or numbing fear

I couldn't dream of an existence
Without your presence living here.

All my feelings became monsters

Feelings once I loved to feel

They made me cry out in my anguish

They did me harm and made me ill.

But love's a healer

And I still need you

As I watch the pouring rain

Come and put your hands on my heart

Come and make me feel again.

Written By Nick Nguyen

and Voo

(c) Copyright Nicholas Nguyen 2019

In Collaboration with Voo