Poetry that takes you on a journey of love, passion, life, and wisdom. The purpose of poetry is to engage ones emotions with the heart and mind. The root of our total being in thinking and doing and living. It expresses the truth that affects each human in every aspect of their lives.
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Soft music the Guitar will play,
But what is it trying to say?
In the quietness I sit . . .
And suddenly her memory hits –
I look at the bottom of my glass,
And I think – yesterday passed!
I would go back if I could . . .
If only this whiskey understood:
I was young and out of control,
And the future I didn’t know –
Soft music the Guitar will play,
But what is it trying to say?
“Whiskey can numb the brain,
But your regrets will still remain!”
Thomas Theophilus© February 7, 2025
The little flowers that come in May,
That Mr. Winter can’t see,
O the cold that makes us ache!
The beauty, the beauty that you take,
But spring waits with its delight
As unto the dew that falls at night:
Locked in your dormant stage
While time turns another page.
The cold ground that wraps your feet,
But soon winter will be complete,
Ice lingers on pond and brook –
But it was our beauty you took,
And soon we will find,
That winter is never kind:
The little flowers that come in May,
Soon you’ll have your say,
And put Mr. Winter on his way!
Thomas Theophilus© February 6, 2025
Wake up! Wake up, people! It’s not a plane!
It’s just the sounds of yesterday’s train!
Maybe the cries of the left, No use! No use!
GITMO waits with its hangman’s noose!
We have had enough – we won’t be still
The American Dream you’ve already killed!
The oath you took was only a lie –
And you look at the people and wonder why?
When you lie down at night and prayers said
Tomorrow my liberal leaders you better dread!
You see, there is a new sheriff in town . . .
And soon the Bogeyman will be coming around!
So put on your tie and pull it really tight –
Pray to God – this may be your last free night!
Thomas Theophilus© February 4, 2025
From the
Queens to Flatbush,
Like winds
that blow and never hush!
And all
that’s left cannot be undone –
We all would
hide, but there is nowhere to run.
All the
stories and lies that people have told,
As we wait
for the next trumpet to blow!
In the
corridors of Trump Tower comes a breeze,
The winds
howl, but who can anyone please?
Our
Forefathers voices crying from the ground,
They cry for
truth, but it’s nowhere to be found!
Truth! O
Truth! It pounds upon the door!
But it seems
it has died forevermore…
Then there is
music – it seems to fill the air –
Then a voice
cries out, “Who is there?”
I am “Don
Corleone” the mafia king!
Then in his
New York brogue he begins to sing.
He holds his
head up high and faces the sun,
Then says,
you want truth, wait until I’m done!
Epaphroditus© April 15,
2018
There is nothing like a dawn
Just before we see the sky
A misty fog rising high,
As dew drops from the thorn
O the beauty of morn –
When all things come to life,
And there is no strife!
It’s the best time of day,
A time our souls want to leap,
The wet clover beneath our feet,
As if the world went away –
The flicker of light prolonged,
As the wind sings its song:
There is nothing else to say:
(God made it this way!)
Thomas Theophilus© February 4, 2025
Who am I?
To know the things I know,
Thoughts upon thoughts,
Faults upon faults
Lost in this universe,
Like a forgotten soul,
Always fighting evil assaults!
O the things I know,
And I don’t mean to be so bold!
But I can say with a voice of power:
“I’m not promised another day!”
Life is not measured by the hour,
And the truth I have to say!
Who am I?
I’m just a mere vessel –
Born in this place and in this time,
With my own story that I can tell
With a good heart and a good mind,
And to say: “We all have a chance –
On the stage of life to dance!”
Thomas Theophilus© February 3, 2025
I look at this life
Things are not fair –
Scratching my head
Fingers in my hair –
Here by the sea
I sit all alone –
The tide comes in
Then it’s gone
A lady walks by
With a G – string,
And looking fine!
I forgot my worries
With thoughts in mind!
Yes, life is not fair
I have to declare –
What color was her hair?
Thomas Theophilus© February 1, 2025
