Poets to the world

All poets are equal in their quest,Armed with pen, paper, and ink,Fueled, sometimes, with wine and whiskey,They bring to life minds, places, scenes,By drawing black lines on white and praying,That they've made writing to trenscend words,That moves the hearts of fellow beings,That rouses interest, rouses rage,That rouses change, rouses love, empathy,That can make the world…

What then?

Will I go to the stars?Or hang from the moon's crescent side?Will I dance in darkness?Or sing the secret song of the universe?Will my energy roam and return to those so dear to me?Or will I disapear, vanish into nothingness?I cannot wait to find out, the ultimate answer,On the other side of life

To loves never lived– by Issa Dioume

I never held her head between my hands,I grabbed at mist and caught myself,Heavily falls he who has never had a fall,And I fell harder than a boulder into an ocean.Now, till she comes, loneliness... Poor me, Poor me! from hour to hour The heat of love scorches my heart,But she my mind holds dear…