Where there is tragedy there is art. Lyric poetry is tragic, intense, and an emotional powerhouse. This is what I wrote after undergoing four brain operations in 1990,1991, to remove a brain tumor at the base of my skull. I wrote when I was sad, and when I was angry. Now, I am battling cancer. I intend to win. I want to live. I put my trust in God, and this cancer has strengthened my relationship with our heavenly Father. In the beginning, I wrote mostly bound verse, using iambic tetrameter, with an ABCB rhyme scheme. A few poems got published by Cader Publishing, the International Library of Poetry, and by Noble House. Now, I write mostly free verse. Poetry is, perhaps, the greatest art form, because it allows the reader to peer into the writer's soul, more so than any other art form. Poetry shall never die. Let art be as timeless and enduring as the legacy of its master. If you want to read some of my blogs, visit my Live space: http: //thepoetineye.spaces.live.com
James Papastamos
A cup of coffee for us all
this morning sun to brew its taste
We wave our hats, salute its wind
the steam now rising, we fan its haste
...
It rained on me one lonely eve
the skies were blue, her skies as grey;
With drops of rain to dry my soul
self-pity was never this gay.
...
A rose, a single rose, slowly but
surely bled to death, by thorns,
merciless in their cruelty,
merry with passion, feasting on my garden’s
...
With the walls of Jerusalem to border his
boundless mind, no tresspassing for those of
little or no faith...or none at all
...