Blossoming Love
Fragrance of flowers, Soul mates in pair
Running with romance, Taking loves dare
Making the moments, Without despair
Smiles of sunshine, Blossoming air
poem by Paul Moosberg
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Magical Days With You
All the magical ways
With the magic of days
My soul is soaring for you
All the magical feeling
With magic that’s healing
Growing and cherishing too
All the magical rhyme
With the magic of time
Whispering love in true
So love as we live
Our souls share to give
Our hearts beat as one, from two
poem by Paul Moosberg
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A Spectramatic Perception
All is dark, no choice exists
Start a spark, creating bliss
Run its light, from that to this
Perimeter, created bliss
Growing now, to shine on out
Showing how, it comes about
Paths of past, in bliss to shout
Light will show, to come about
Light is fastest always strewn
In the smallest darkest room
Across the universe’s gloom
Light is leaving every room
poem by Paul Moosberg
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How to write a Poem?
Must I know what I write down
Meaningless or meaning found
Making poem, don’t know how
Must I know what I write down
Does a poem need to breathe
To plan a knit into a weave
Or can it start not to conceive
A poemed haze is free to breathe
Writing breath from writing down
The poem tilts as I think now
Bias nature changing how
The poem writes, still writing down
No thought, no poem, here with me
Should I stop or let it be
Bleeding brain, becoming free
Rereading, learning, me for me
poem by Paul Moosberg
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Splitting the Sparkle
Splitting the sparkle from seams in the sky
Running in fabric with threads flying by
Twisting contorting a glimmer of light
Running in spectrums that seemed out of sight
Bending and breaking spectacular tests
Over and under, repeating its bests
Showing and slowing this glimmer of light
Over and under, all spectrums of sight
Running over and under these fabrics so tense
It’s hard to remember to question from whence
Spectrums and glimmers that came from a dense
Point in the universe shouts existence
poem by Paul Moosberg
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A BeAPoeIt Poem
I say I'm not a poet, For like of which I know it,
Rhymes absurd in metered word,
Describing not a poet
Edgar Allen knew it, The flying raven flew it,
The poems grow for Poe to know,
And Nevermore he drew it
Maya made to wing it, The caging bird to bring it,
With Angelou a freedom flow,
In Stilling bird to sing it
Robert's ride to sigh it, The road with just one by it,
Frost travels one concealing sun,
But Traveling to try it
I'll never be a poet, Descriptions rip to sew it,
Moving here and there with wear,
Encoding how I show it
poem by Paul Moosberg
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Good People
How true in all time, good people can’t see
How true and sublime, their good could just be
How true in life’s grime, good people agree
How true with their chime, they sing of happy
This thank you decrees, to holding the keys
Of thanking with pleas, to hug good with ease
Good people make haste, to help and befriend
Good people are placed, with help that they lend
Good people won’t waste, the love that they tend
Good people are faced, with love to defend
This thank you extends, where it knows no ends
Of thanking my friends, where help and love blends
poem by Paul Moosberg
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I’d Like to Write a Sonnet Just in Fun
I wrote to write my thoughts in clarity
I wrote to write ideas and views that storm
You see I wrote to write tranquility
But now I want to write in sonnet form
I like emotions locked inside fourteen
Inside with beats I’ve never known before
The sonnet life has rule as code adds mien
To quench my thirst for laws that I explore
I lay the code in mind to bring feelings
With beats I join to capture its allure
In words I write to form with beats freeing
To play amongst the codes that I procure
I will reread and learn as I arrange
With feelings that will flow as beats will change
poem by Paul Moosberg
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My First Sonnet
If I’m to write and form a little song
I’ll choose to use the English code and rules
I’ll learn the laws to lay my bricks along
The roads I build of codes with English tools
Now two will rhyme with four and one with three
I’ll split the rhyme between the stanza breaks
The last two lines will rhyme a final plea
With glee that creeps in hands of codes I make
Iambics boast control as they decide
The words to run as feet conduct the line
I’ll snare the code that hides along and strides
In quatrains forming claims of codes that shine
I’m here alas to weave and write my fun
I’m taught I’ve learned and now my sonnet’s done
poem by Paul Moosberg
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Lightning Farms
Strikes of light across the sky
Thrown long and far to see
Awesome forces play their hand
Thrown power flying free
Rips with cracks to see a flash
Across the chilling sky
Power gathered all around
Across from way up high
Time to time it hits a vein
Dropping the power down
With a wire as the guide
Dropping into the ground
How can I steal this power
And take to make it mine
I’ll rap a copper coil
And bind it to the line
[...] Read more
poem by Paul Moosberg
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