Age of Poetry
by Edward Taylor III
Let me compose a question & let the melody provoke you to thought,
Can we make it back?
Back to the days, back in the day, when imagination was
accepted truth;
Back when honesty flowed off the lips with pure innocence,
Back when we climbed the ladder of innovation to reach the peak of creativity,
To inject words that caused people to say –
“Man that really speaks to me…”
I hope to see those day’s again, before man craved the taste for sin,
Before man sold his gift for a slice of bread & an illegal kiss…
Can we make back to this?
Back to when words had power, back before the radio projected mindless chants five times an hour,
Leaving me sour, asking questons like-
” where’s the freshness” ?
“Where’s the voices that spoke of love, heartache, struggle,
& triumph” ?
“Where’s the passion for the truth, the lust for righteousness” ?
Has it been abandoned?
Lost in the mix of money, women, jewels, & drugs…
Fame…?
Is that what you sold your birthright for?
Your moment in the sun, your 15 minutes a top the plato #1…
Come on son…
Can we get back to the age where we treasured the old
& protected the new?
Back to the age where words on a page resounded throughout
eternities gaze;
Can’t you hear wisdom’s cry,
Come back!
Come back!
Come back!
To me;
Come back to the age of renaissance,
Come back young King,
Come back to the age where poetry sings…
snap! snap! snap! snap! snap! snap! snap!…i can dig it bro!
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thanks bro. for feeling my rant for change lets get back to the sound of snappen fingers and blues singer’s, jazz hits mixed with lyrical spites, that spoken word, that poetic freestyle, that freedom of speech, matched with vocal heat, ya dig what I’m say’in, ya dig…?
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