Power of Poem
Brick by brick,
And stone by stone
A tower grows -
I built alone.
It took me days,
Or months, or years -
And yet I channelled
All my fears.
I built it up;
Its power surges.
My brain was crashing
From the urges
In my head
To make it great,
To fill each brick
With love, with hate.
Each stone - a line,
Each brick - a word.
The poem lies beneath my feet -
Unsaid, unheard.
And yet, the stones
They bring me up
Towards the clouds;
I don’t give up.
Egypt’s Pyramids
Could never have compared
To the all the magic
Spoken words have shared.
A poem written
Is empowering -
It heals the writer
And all those following,
But once it’s spoken
That’s the time
When clocks all stop
Within the rhyme -
The whole world starts
To breathe as one
And in that moment,
Wars are done.
There is no need
To fight or hate
Words have the strength
To mitigate
All of the wounds
The shrieks and sorrows;
They carry magic
On the wings of swallows,
On horses backs,
And within pockets.
The words explode
Like NASA rockets.
A word can hurt
More than a knife,
But it can heal,
And give back life,
And give back hope,
And love, and health,
And it can give the poor
Their wealth -
Because a poem
Can make fate
Seam like a spek
On a huge slate.
It can push problems
Out to sea,
And for that moment
You are free...