OEUVRES OF A POET
OEUVRES OF A POET by CZAR-INKS*
I love to write poems about mirrors
Reflections resonates the depth of my soul
So can somebody give this heart a pen
Because hands cannot write it’s true intentions
I love to write poems about clocks
we keep them yet we still lose time, how ironic
A magnificent prologue of references
How do we define time without using the work of its hands
I love to write poems about photographs
Wildflowers, earthworms, birds, faces, Black and white yet colourful
Our old wrinkled hands hold memories of our own adolescence
Then we smile our minds to nostalgia
I love to write poems about Roads
The curves and curves that lead to circles that lead back to ourselves
Where flaming leaves bloom and blossom into an oblivious caravan’s labyrinth
And open roads hold most closed secrets
I love to write poems about poets
Those sneaky sweet sweet talk liars and robbers armed with words
Crumbling their souls to fill hearts with hollow spaces
Poets have lived and died a thousand lives before their own
I love to write poems about love
Universal a language love reverberates
To share a sandwich and a soul sage
That anchors deep within like upside down question marks
I love to write poems about everything
Everything is poetry
*Czar Eldridge Lungu
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