now i know something of how a piano must feel when it looks at a fire and sees sheet music used as kindling

okay so my disclaimer for this poem is that it is not how i feel right now, i just happened upon it and thought it was beautiful. i have been listening to a lot of poetry or spoken word as it is called when recited. i really love poetry, if i could do one thing in my life it would be a poet, but i dont have that gift. i have the gift of emotion that allows me to fully experience the emotional impact of what people say. art is when people try to get people to see the world as they see it. i really like listening to people read poetry because they say it with the emotion that they want you to feel. they say it the way that is it supposed to be said.


Death be not Proud - John Donne

DEATH be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not so,
For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee,
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,
Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie.
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell,
And poppie, or charmes can make us sleepe as well,
And better then thy stroake; why swell'st thou then;
One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.


if you ever want to share poetry with me please feel free to send it in my direction.

shanti.