art
Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
Blessings of the Old Men
[Verse 1] We came with our hands open To the houses by the hill Where the elders keep the stories And the rooms remember still We have learned to hold our breathing When the names are spoken low But we need the ones who lived it To show us where the tears can go [Chorus] We need the blessings of the old men Teach us how to grieve, how to feel pain Teach us how to love without turning away Give back the honor they were made to lose We need the old men We need their truth [Verse 2] Let them tell us what was taken Let them tell us what remains How a heart can bear its breaking And still make room for tenderness again We will sit beside their silence We will listen, we will stay There are lessons in their sorrow That no hurried word can say [Chorus] We need the blessings of the old men Teach us how to grieve, how to feel pain Teach us how to love without turning away Give back the honor they were made to lose We need the old men We need their truth [Bridge] Not to ask them to be fearless Not to ask them to forget Only let us stand beside them And remember what they kept [Final Chorus] We need the blessings of the old men Teach us how to grieve, how to feel pain Teach us how to love, and carry love through Give back the honor that was taken from you We need the old men We need their truth [Outro] We need their hands We need their stories We need their blessing To learn how to love
By Julie O'Hara - Author, Poet and Spiritual Warriorabout 6 hours ago in Poets
Black-Suga-Cream
Black-Sugar-Cream. I cram all my letters in a flame. A candle I blow out in secret. The only evidence is the letter of smoke that bursts out, smelling of decaying fervent light. All bursting like a Georgia sky, a peach that landed in Fall’s lap. I write you letters in that cloud of peachy smoke. Secret candle that looks like a rose. Black-Suga-Cream. You blow it all away. It’s a bothersome thing to you.
By Melissa Ingoldsbyabout 24 hours ago in Poets
Truth Has Roots
[Verse 1] You kept the map folded neat in your coat Took every turn that the old roads wrote But the hill beyond the orchard stays And the path is rough with yesterday [Chorus] The easy answer keeps you still A quiet room below the hill But truth has roots that split the stone You grow by walking there alone [Verse 2] I found your notes in the kitchen drawer Ink pressed hard through the page before You wrote, “I’m scared of what I’ll know” Then left the sentence years ago [Chorus] The easy answer keeps you still A quiet room below the hill But truth has roots that split the stone You grow by walking there alone [Bridge] Some lessons leave a tender seam A mark that tells you where you’ve been Don’t call the hurt a reason to turn The hand that heals is yours to learn [Final Chorus] The easy answer keeps you still So take the path beyond the hill Let truth put roots beneath your bones You grow by walking, not alone [Outro] Not alone Not alone
By Julie O'Hara - Author, Poet and Spiritual Warriora day ago in Poets
