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The Caged Poet


Blank pages in my book,
empty of poems that I wrote,
now to emptiness here I look,
empty verses, not to quote,

Between pages of lost love,
all the feelings are forgone,
all my poems, like a dove
which flew away- now are gone.

Now my book, white it is,
no more meanings here I see,
so I write no more of this;
to that- I think- I shall not plea,

'Cause more lines I will write,
when I find my loving bride,
and inspired by her sight,
all my verses- be justified.


As he lays his head, ready to doze,
he prepares for his trojan horse,
kisses his maid; day is closed.

His maid, loudly requests
time for her self...
Abruptly he suggests

NO! To my venture lore
which hatches the memoirs
from my life's metaphor.

Now he boards, in fore,
the craft of his delusions
which awaits at shore,

He departs to a land
of romantic intimacy-
created, by his own hand.

Through his travel he sees,
dolphing, serpents, and fish
living in accord with the seas.

On the distant shore
a land, with colorful flora-
green- for him to explore,

People of beautiful skin
dressed in colorful rags,
happy faces, ignorant to sin.

Young cubs under care
of men and women
and the love they share.

Men on shanties make repairs,
women sowing corn,
children, learning in pairs.

Elders teaching kids
the secret of hunting
and the how, of the grid.

Respect for others, they arrest,
not ignoring each other,
letting the elders take a rest.

Now, With those same, he sits;
listening to them speak,
while in their feast, he eats.

He sees women serving men,
men feeding women,
eating with them, cubs under ten.

From the shadows, he ascends,
to find himself in bed
inside his white tent,

Sad for his wandering
and happy for his Knowlege
he kisses his maid, answering,

her plea, giving her attencion
so requested,
she finds the assertion,

Of his love- deficient,
between the sheets;
mating, with love sufficient,

Using as example
that Tender Action
which for him, is ample.

Giving ease to the tension,
breeched communication,
caused by flaws, in attention.


Sitting here in solitude,
all I do is think of you.

Everything you once said...
now the words, to me make sense.

It would be easer, if we could hate
and thus, our pain, to never mate.

Now, my fate, I have to tell...
my soul might burn in hell.

My heart, for you did wish,
and now, the contrary, we preach.

I just hope, we never hate,
or for each other, grow distaste...


Standing here, at the mountain ledge
looking foward--the rising dawn,
sets my soul, free to fledge;
as the bird--delivers her spawn.

Trapped behind this painful hedge
I contemplate the cliff
Dizzy with excuses, to death alleged
I step on to nothing, falling a jiff,

While descending, I see
the end of my quest...
I think, I'll be free
now in my sins, I've found rest...

And here below earth
I am burning in hell...


I'm afraid too 
of this being true
of falling for you 

fear, not of you,  
but of falling in love,
to later see you gone:
flying to far lands
carried by other hands,
me dead, on my own hands 

buried, not hidden,
in the house of the living dead
while resting in death's bed
a room, lonely and dark
me, fearing decay, not able to stand
and you... not coming back

it isn't fear for love
our hands suddenly sly
letting my heart slowly die 

thus, now I shall depart
leaving this as it stands
walking away... 

My love, aback...


Weakness came upon me,
setting my soul free
to fly above the sea,
leaving behind, history,
put in papers as poetry
for all to read but this, 
shall not be the end 
of my century...

Giving life to death
with tales whispereth
in prose and verse
impossible to reverse
the power of my pen...

I write...
a story of myself
and yet of every man...


The closer I get to life's end
The nearest I see 
wines and bread.

Shall mine - end tomorrow,
in my way, shall not be any sorrow.


You; that bathe under the sun,
Is he, keeping you warm?
You;  that crawl  to shore,
would the waves bring you back?
You; the one who explore the bottom of the ocean,
Did you find another shell to dwell?

My Little Crab 
Would I ever see you again?


Walking, not knowing where to go, 
following the moon, hiding from the sun
as on this long and dark road
the tree dances as MR. Freeze calls on me
lights grow deem, horizon turns in,
the road moves-away from me,
letting me 
-be - 

The man in the skies, knowing my fears
drinking my tears, smiles at me...

With the baggage on my back
the distance looks closer
closer still far,
with pain in my heart
I walk!


God bless
those who know no worries

God bless
those who get what they want

God bless
those who have no mercey

God bless
those who care for none

God bless
those who are ever alone

God bless
those who have the power

God bless
those who know, no soul

God bless
those who know, no poverty

God bless
those who forget, the needie exist

  God  have already blessed
  those that have been forgoten
  with those we pray for now!

  Our lives will be eternal
  Our love is divine
  Our god is at our side!


Weakness came upon me
leaving me without fear
  of ever losing thee
  fading as mistic peer

 To land of endless dreams
full of bloom, much like spring
bathing in endless streams
     living like Queen and King

  And my Queen; my loves lore
This King; can't ask for more!


A tear was freed to tell the memoir
of a strifed vessel lost at sea
this tear had no idea, of how far
nor how bizarre her trip would it be!

Swimming on salty waters, lonely she cried
searching for the encounter that will let her see
fighting mermaids, a fish, and a squid; more tears bleed 
to shore she arrived, hopping for a ride for Enfree.

Now rolling with the stream, ends in the boulevard
lounging in a jar along a fish and soft sand,
a kid dumped a tear, his name was Bernard;
Bernard passes the jar, and ends on Marie’s hands.

The tear found her self; story telling-looking upon a star
with John, Sean, Penelope, Marie unable to flee
‘cause they found within, the pain that left a sad scar
just as deep as the ocean bottom, shallow as the reef.	

So! confused they listen, maybe in disbelief
Ha! the tear knows - that the belief, a tear falls; relief?

COPYRIGHT © 1999 J.A.R. 7055
This poems are a representacion of my fantacies, thoughs, and past experiences.