Monday, June 2, 2008

The Work of Poets

Morality drinks from the
Fanatics cup, a world
Pulled left or right, but
In that inky black before
The dawn, sorrow cries
words of poetry, meat
For the Multitudes to chew
And ponder, ideals pulled from
The teeth of truth, this is
The work of the poet,
a voice
to help us reflect and to
dream, from the unveiling of
love’s sweet splendor,
to a faithful companion in our
Lonely hours of grief
From the battlefields of revolution,
To the quiet sidewalks of peace
A myriad of hues revealed
Between the black and white

copyright Sherry Obsheatz


texasblu said...


"A myriad of hues revealed
Between the black and white"

I like so very much! I never quite thought of poets in that form before... :)

June said...

Your poems certainly do this...

Id it is said...

Poetry has so many caps to don and yet there are times when it doesn't find a voice! I've often wondered why...

jyotsana said...

nothing stagnates like morality. and sure it drinks from the fanatics cup...
read your tapestry of woman once again.
white rose your fragrance touches us.

jyotsana said...

hey i just noticd the white rose has a new color...saffronish orange. in india this is the color of renunciation since its the color of fire burning the past and ....well its too long..
so whatsup?

SunShine said...

AHHHH!! Awesome!!!
This should be published in a book!

Nathan1313 said...

The color metaphor is great and thought provoking. And I love the art. Wish I had that on my wall.

rebecca said...

Wow! Bravo! Brilliant!

Cynthia said...

Very insightful and oh so true!

janetleigh said...

This really rings in universal truth and timelessness. I love this line, "Morality drinks from the Fanatics cup". The painting complements your poem beautifully. Well done, White Rose!