Writing from a Brilliant Soldier
And there was a time
he wrote stories and rhymes
a name between every line
most of all, favorites of mine
Soldier was a name
i called him without any claim
nonsense i thought whenever every line came
hadn't the spirit my self i blame
and the words he wrote to me sounded the same
Till one time he put away the shame
came to me with a song he sang
at the end 'a brilliant soldier' called himself
again to me sounded like a deaf
When he disappeared i found the words in my shelf
with every line i remembered his hand on my shoulder
suddenly my blindness vanished like a powder
again the end, he wrote 'writing from a brilliant soldier'
for every word opened in my heart a new folder!
poem by Nina Joseph
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Living Shadow
Sitting on a big chair
swinging round and round around a round table
bending to and fro luxuriously
having all the courage of life
and the riches of the earth
What amount will purchase a soul?
even strength enough won't be
A heart is heart when full of blood
A soul is a soul with harmony and charity
Can one tell the price of humanity?
yelling to and hurting the poor
is what the rich do?
Disturbing peace for the fulfillment of anger
and the need to be feared
An empty soul is as poor as dead
dead from the beginning of it's creation
even the rich and the poor meet in this
though under the sun
the distinction is done
What's the secret point of money and courage?
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poem by Nina Joseph
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Desperate courage, the neverending patience
Some say we live to see
i think we live it to thee
Some don't know that when we know we don't
and when we try to get to know we won't
Some say where there's a will there's a way
one shall wake up to see a new day
Some say old is gold
but the truth is never told
One can't sing a ballad to a ghost
cause none knows what it might bring forth
Life is a river it got a course
one has to follow to get to the ocean
Well; my heart is wide open
cause my last breath has just been taken
It's never of better if it don't have a start
love is never ever at first sight
cause my love is a process and i think am right
One loves and is ready to give
one hates and is ready to live
like a leaf from a tree
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poem by Nina Joseph
Added by Poetry Lover
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