The Different Kinds of Poetry

For nearly as long as man has known how to read and write, poetry has been thriving. It has been the solace of lovers, the most ardent form of expression of royal flattery, and a welcome distraction to book lovers. In fact, some of the most ancient literary works are all written in a poetic manner.

The Blood-Stained Banner:
I write about how the violence and injustice in America continues to stain the image of America. In America we look for freedom and justice regardless of our race or color. We expect to be treated with dignity and fairness. I believe that the recent violence and injustice is slowly destroying the image of America. We are headed backward instead of forward.

Dressed In A Robe, His Head And Hair Were Like White Wool, White As Snow, His Eyes Like Blazing Fire:
Fine fabrics are good for you, flowing hair but the red-eye has to go. Too many drinks in a drunken haze bedlam in Jerusalem his lover's lonely reign. But as you know it must have really gotten to him bad, too many solitary nights with ink and quill. Yet eventually things began to work themselves out as we knew they always would.

Peru's Oligarchy and Mandates of the Master (Poetic Prose):
Those who have fear of God in them, and are part of the ruling body of Peru, should read this; those who have no fear of God, God help you to find it, but this reading will be of little use for you: Peru's Oligarchy To the governing body of Peru, the elected ones, elected or otherwise-: For the: Judges, the police, the silent ones, the rich, the mayors, the congress people, senate, presidents, and the executive branch (the preying mantis' of the people, and there are...

The Sun Turned Black Like Goat Hair, The Moon Turned Blood Red, The Stars Fell Down To Earth:
In a torrent, eventually it shall all come about, grave images shining like a forgotten moon, a begotten son. It is the blood that casts shadows, cloud bursts moving forward from the glittering stars that have fallen down. Scary thoughts, dead sea lurking, dripping in the corridor, on a bearded mat for two, trickling through a knotty lane on special days in thickness it may pulse with the glory of a seedless carpenter cranking up the heat.

On A Throne Flashes of Lightning and Thunder, Seven Spirits In A Sea of Glass:
Broken pieces, shards of glass from the seahorse it came running an incubus, a rascal, a fiend, a disconsolate weary friend. On a shattered chair the rumblings of conscience are stark steadfast lonely stammering in a journeyman's dark. Still the light may come on brief intermittent pages, shadows cascading in the sky yet the forms may be rich and fertile, a fecund for yesterday's extravagant meal, a wonderful moment, speculative needle point, a time for pure untarnished delight.

Rebuked By A Donkey, A Beast Without Speech Who Spoke With A Man's Voice And Restrained the Madness:
Beware of prophets because they may often speak with an insolent voice. Rebuked by the masses uttering words with an impertinent tongue. Their grunts may mimic a mule, something like a spanish fly.

Writing Poetry:
The art of poetry writing is very old. With the passage of time, it has undergone several changes. Nevertheless, there was something always constant!

New Aryan Bird of Prey (Fictional Poetry):
Extraterrestrial humans have traveled through a warp, Galactic gate to this world wanting to engage with us. They sought treaties with our United Diplomatic Corp. 'Mayan descendants coming from Nibiru', wrote the press. 'On 5000 BC, that earth map had big continents. During the time Of Moses, strange Mycenaeans appeared Having an alphabet for hieroglyphic documents, While an alien space from Atlantis, for sure, disappeared.'

Easter Bunny - Lion:
This article is about random thoughts about nothing. About something to think about, about something to doubt. It's much to do about nothing, but a lot to say about it.