Please

We are poets...we are prone to guttering lamps...of past memory...of ghosts of future sight...we must face our souls...aghast at what it is...and what it says of us...we are not anchored...right...in this, but in another world...where dream is all...while here...all dreams are ever outcast...


Written by Bruce James Clyde 2015


Please...there are beautiful things in this world, now selfies snapped in one second, and there are dreams, just laying on the ground...if you never do another thing...pick this one up...it is a man, a poet, named Khalil Gibran, and he wrote 'The Prophet'. There is 'the chosen and the beloved'...his name is Almustafa, and his ship, has finally arrived...the city he lives in...the dusty streets he walks, and the souls he loves live in the city of Orphalese...Almustafa must leave, but his people give him pause, for, latently, they arrive, to confess their great love...one last gift he gift's the gathering mob, that none are high or low...that none will skirt the fate...that none are better, neither worse...than all...and that,one day he will...return to them...they call...with one great cry...as the ship...away, and one waits on the shore...Almitra...


Review: for 'The Prophet', written by Bruce James Clyde 2015

Art: 'The Prophet', written and drawn by Khalil Gibran, from a dream