The works of Edgar Allan Poe!
Love his work. This is a used very snazzy vintage book, go to my ebay auction to put in a bid. Lots more photos and info.
Tag: poets
-
Legs
Photo by Aleksejs Bergmanis from Pexels Legs
Legs burn muscle
over hills and byways
highways stretching on the horizon
teeming with cars
hell-bent on winning the race
the race of human want
want that crashes without brakes
still, I beat the road
pounding legs on shoe rubber lanes
racing the clock
to stay in the game
gridlock metal that knows
no shame
refusing to budge, I remain
leg-muscled-highway
drive through wind and rain
all steel and rubber
screeching in pain
the race of human want
futile gain.
©️Jay Mora-Shihadeh
#Poetry #Rhymes #Poet #Ratrace
-
Icons
Icons
Our stretching souls
and empty spirits
wake as sunrise smiles.
TV’s click on
our children chortle
as icons play.
©️Jay Mora-Shihadeh
Photo by Josh Willink from Pexels
-
Witches Water
Witches water
I will walk this dry land
and bathe in the witches water
to quench my thirst
with God’s cup.
©️Jay Mora-Shihadeh
Photo by Zaid Abu Taha from Pexels
-
Tears Gather for a Drink
Tears gather for a drink
It’s time to say goodbye
Our long journey has ended
We must release our friends to
Join all the fun outside
Have another round
Of life-
Goodbye!
©️Jay Mora-Shihadeh
Photo by Marcelo Jaboo from Pexels
-
The Task
The Task
Pieces scatter
the earth
leaving the task
at hand –
With hand and heart
I shall sew a story
a tale to mend
your life.
©️Jay Mora-Shihadeh
Photo by Amine M’Siouri from Pexels
-
Ravaged
That greedy glint
in the eye of the fooled
the eye of the lost
my heart left in the home of the tricked
What does it take for them to wake up?
To stop selling their fortunes
for the land of milk and honey
the land where the streets are paved in gold
the lies told to lure them
What will it take before the tales of fools
are replaced with the folklore of the ancient?
The contentment of the indigenous?
What will it take for the
Mad Hatter to end his greedy voyages
into the hearts of the innocent?
I am ravaged like the forests of the Amazon!
Ravaged like the tombs of Egypt!
And where do the tombs rest now?
In the land of the greedy, the violent
in the land of the weeping
I am the ravaged exile!
The ravaged land of the tricked
and the ravaged heart
of the fool.
©️Jay Mora-Shihadeh
Photo by Free Creative Stuff from Pexels
-
The Laughter
Forever by day
words rain like a roar
though soft and still-like
your world
rememberest
forever change
the laughter
deceased.
©Jay Mora-Shihadeh
Photo by omar alnahi from Pexels
-
Monastic Dreams
Monastic dreams
concealed love
there in the solace
an intricately inscribed quill.
©️Jay Mora-Shihadeh
#Poetry #Micropoem #Monastery
-
Hot Candle Tears
Blood-letting wax
there is comfort upon
rainbows
solace from my dreams.
©️Jay Mora-Shihadeh
-
Under the Lotus Moon
This artwork was created at the time I met and fell in love with my wife. She was so beautiful to me and she was very into yoga at the time so this oil pastel was my very first gift I gave her. This poem is coupled with it as visual inspiration.
Love is to the spirit
what a moon beam is to the night
A smile so bright
darkness hides under a rock
defeated by the brilliance
of the white-hot light
dancing on the stars
staying awake all night
darkness runs
to the corners of the earth
escaping the wrath
of its’ competitors heart
Love is to the spirit
what a moon beam is to the night
reflections of galaxies
upon the oceans bright
mirrors of adoration
adorning faces despite
the darkness that challenges
loves white-hot light.
Art and Poetry by, Jay Mora-Shihadeh
© Jay Mora-Shihadeh
-
A Chinese Moon
A Chinese moon revealed a
fools desire
ravenously my eyes bespeak
tranquility is
the ocean-bed
the flesh-plumes velvet
petals end.
©️Jay Mora-Shihadeh
-
Cabin Fever
This small hut is closing in, on me
anxious energy burning within
the boring stale air
the household chores
contemplating the dirty bed sheets
that litter my floor
the broken record of weather, news, skipping
frozen in time
snowbound blues, all boxed in
NOT amused.
Over-consumption
stuffing my moods
with winter’s brew and howling winds
pacing this room, milking
the season, dry teats depleted
shriveled with fever
icy bones re-heating the leftovers
of last night’s abhorrent gloom
feeding my anticipation of
winter’s impending doom.
©Jay Mora-Shihadeh
-
WORDS
Photo by Ylanite Koppens from Pexels Words
spill onto the page
with fluid abandon
Reaching
grappling
touching
delicate impressions
Shaping
smoothing over
astute interactions
Sculpting images
that emerge
unexplained yet
graceful
Suffering
knowing
you are almost there
Always.
©Jay Mora-Shihadeh
-
That Day
When the light of day sits
pensive and dull
you begin to mourn the flowers
that yesterday sang
brilliant hues of red
and violet
and the spray of ocean waters
burned salt into your eyes
and you cried
not because you mourned the day
but because the sky was seamless blue
and the day held you suspended
in warm light
high and giddy from the smell
of the sun
you melt into the air
and fly away with the seagulls.
Art and Poetry © Jay Mora-Shihadeh
