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POETRY
iLove Poetry
Life is about finding what you love and doing that.
Who keeps the keys to the vaults of the heart
when more than self is well-stored within?
Do the shadows inside give creep to light
when feasting upon undivine delight?
Are we cursed to dwell with devils instead
who revel in devilry painted red
or might we be blessed by angels instead —
Learning to be Human
I poked myself in the eye with my glasses today
and learned that this hurts
having never encountered these devices
until recently
when my eyes saw to go bad.
I coughed and might have pulled a muscle
in my back or buttocks
that upper part where it’s ambiguous which
part it is
but whichever it is, I know that it hurts.
Even winter has flowers that bloom, though,
if one considers every seed
for having taught chess to the child
at the end of the week
again made the heart grow fond.
We are feasters and lovers and simple at heart
no matter the center house
we choose to never part, though ways wander
paths are always one
being human is always learning, I’ve found.
— agod
