The Island

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    The Island

    Stick my hand in the flame to see what the fire inspires
    See if I can feel my wants, and needs, my heart’s desires
    Longing for creativity I’m a victim of the art
    A king on my imagination
    The Sire alone on an ark
    A prisoner of sound, colors, thoughts, and words on stationary
    The rebel without a cause lost in a world that’s lost
    Through culture I have found a place where no one care about my face
    I exist without a race
    On a island called creativity
    They embrace whatever you do
    I invite you to voyage with me
    To meet other just like you
    On a path to originality
    The island

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    BoSweets commented on The Island

    10-28-2009

    This is such a beautiful way to express an artist, and its how a lot of us feel; different from the norm! Excellent write..Peace BoSweets

    cheyla commented on The Island

    04-10-2009

    "I exist without a race on an island called creativity" cool, art, poetry unites us all as one

    therealqb commented on The Island

    04-09-2009

    I was blown away by your words and lifted by your prose you are truly gifted God knows. Angel aka therealqb

    A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    TheLastPoet’s Poems (13)

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    Title Comments
    Beautiful from the start 8
    The Island 3
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    Wasteland 9
    Faceless Soldier 10
    Barbwire Landscape 6
    Mr. Misery 12
    DETACHED 6
    Through the Shuttle 4
    Mental Metropolis Hypothesis 5
    Disconnected 8
    Miasma 4