To Spread Ones Wings and Fly

Sometimes I've stopped and wondered
As I write from day to day
To spread ones wings and fly
And let the anew have their say

There are so many horizons
In the distance of our lives
To spread ones wings and fly
Where new writing newly strives

Audiences abound our globe
Where fresh learnings can be found
To spread ones wings and fly
Maybe there's a common ground

Topics to capture young thoughts
Like fantasy and the dark
To spread ones wings and fly
It would be churlish not to be a part

To write and grow with tomorrows kind
Is to enjoy the enriching road
To spread ones wings and fly
And settle into a new abode

Writers and poets so
Are to be read, and to aim for print
To spread ones wings and fly
And capture the readers glint

Sometimes I've stopped and wondered
More so, very recently
To spread ones wings and fly
And to find where ones writings to be


Derogatory, derisive and contemptuous are synonymous with this word
It means about certain words that should never have been heard

Some were invented recently, and some so long ago
On the day they were first written, in an already language that flowed

Terms such as Quaker, Tory and Yankee
At first were condemned, we now appear to thank thee

Some are still considered pejorative, whilst others appear in reflection
Cripple, redneck and many others, if not a group member is the question

Sometimes a term may begin, and be accepted through the years
And eventually be adopted in a non-pejorative sense than smear

Derogatory, derisive and contemptuous are synonymous with this word
Whilst many are used beyond, lack of grammar is their absurd 

Liberty to Write

We live in a modern world, where liberty is readily found
When ones writing should be shared, not driven underground

Co-writes, even collaborations, two thoughts to join as one
Some are frowned upon, before they have begun

These traits that lie among us, I care not for what they are
They serve no other purpose, it's jealousy gone too far

This applies to whoever, out there in the living world
Let poets write their writes, for they have to be read and heard

If it's something you can't comprehend, get you heads back in the sand
For quills will turn into arrows, by literal command

Words Journey

Words are in us
They reverberate with voice
It's in us to use them
And determine their choice

In us we construct
And use them with craft
Intermingle these words
Allows us to float on their raft

To where these words take us
These words only know
For we write their destiny
Whilst we watch these words flow

In all us we desire
That our words touch reading souls
For our craft has finally landed
A writers wanting goal


Collusion to Cartel

I'm no mathematician
But I can do the sums
It's collusion to cartel
By devious literary ones

This was brought to my attention
By a person so clever can be
It all added up when counted
It came as no surprise to me

There must have been discussions
To determine their road to writes
To be leaders of their community
Collusion to cartel, ain't right

This pathetic desire to win
Patting each other on the back
Where's the fairness in this
For this, this two do lack

I finish of this quatrain
Disgusted at what I have been told
Under their fellow poets noses
These two in literary cold 

Sometimes I Feel Like I'm Screaming

As I delve into an abyss of literary words
Am I in a crazy world of confusional absurd

All I appear to do is to drift from rule to rule
Am I stubbornly blind or an idiotic fool

Whilst all around me flourishes, allegedly so
Is the holding hands of others in peripheral poetry grow

Sometimes what we cannot see, is right before our eyes
It's the faithful that carry the light, as others darken our skies

To be drawn from this darkness is a duty to serve ourselves
I'd rather be myself, than be born from a different shelf

What's in a Name

I need to remind myself why
As to why my name is required
Is it to look at the same old name
To become literally tired

Or do I read into an abyss
Where one needs a clue to be
I'm estranged as to why my name
Requires the reader to see

I can live for centuries
The desire to see, never compaired
So why should I write my name
When I'm blank, my write is spared

Maybe I'm tired with age
Or common sense allows my right
I need to remind myself why
That who should know my writes