What You Can Do....

dearly beloved
promise yourself not to forget poetry
you cannot say that, unless you are prepared to be another congenital liar,
your lips miss always the metaphors that please your tongue
that tastes the sweetness of nectar words
inside the receptacles of your flower-mind

come, dearly beloved
for the meantime leave the daily cares of your search for comfort
forget the greenish look of the almighty money
come with me
let us sing the songs of our perdition
let us ring the bells of of our death
to art, say it again, to art i must live and die and live and die
and die again

only to be redeemed by the powers of its beauty
its grace that saves us
ultimately from the evils of boredom
of too much familiarity to the insignificant
and the worldly,

dearly beloved we set free our butterflies
into the infinite skies of our
immortal existence.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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