The most dangerous people in this world
are those who are clever enough
to know they are more clever than most
but who are not clever enough
to know they are not wise enough to rule this world
and you will know them
by their arrogance
and by their willingness to deceive
and by their eagerness to invade, murder and rob
in the name of false ideologies
and you can defeat them only
by the sharpness
of the sword of the truth
and by deflating the power that they have
by making it your own
Credit img @thesteemtrain
I've prided myself on being an insightful poet, but you, are quite good. Really. And profound. Sorry I cant throw a few pennies your way. Been too busy commenting a upvoting. All out of cents. I just came back to edit this comment: I reread your poem. Let me emphasize how impressed I am. I've never copied anothers poem here on Steemit but this one I'm keeping for reference. Now I'm going to read your other posts.
Thanks for reading @mistermercuriy -- and for the compliments. I in fact have no idea what defines poetry or what it should be like...one of the black holes left in my knowledge of the known universe by the incompleteness of my formal education. I simply find thoughts broken down into lines visually grouped together as they logically belong an effective way of conveying perceptions, that is also relatively easy to edit. I otherwise tend to be wordy and incomprehensible. But I must admit that at times a rant written this way somehow inexplicably gathers both rhythm and rhyme emphasizing the point made. What neurological interplay causes this to happen is a mystery to me!
I am, btw, following you for the valuable insight and goodwill apparent from your comments elsewhere.
There! Blasted you with .11 cents to make up for my lack of cents going your way on the last comment. Go buy yourself a ... cigar? Kidding. A cigar wrapper perhaps?
Poetry? Boy, you know, I do love poetry that is not overly contrived or that fits some kind of formula. I mean just look at one of the most famous poets of all: Rumi. He was inspired, not obedient to a formula. I think poetry is more divine, more a means of capturing the energy of words, of soul, and fitting them together. It is as if we have a kaleidoscope full of words and when turned to the right frequency a stunning (hopefully) picture emerges. It's all about feeling the energy, letting the energy of words speak to us, and allowing our souls to have voice, often in unexpected ways. You feel it too. One word is better than another. There seems to be the necessity of openness of receptivity to the right words. Well, and I think it is far better to let these etheric promptings be our guides rather than some strict formula learned from "formal education". I doubt Poe, or Keats or Longfellow took class work at the local college. Blessings.
Encouraging words...and thanks for the donation @mistermercury - much appreciated!
I in fact have a pile of to-be-edited pencil manuscripts, but 3D obligations and other stuff currently grab virtually all Father Time's allowance...working at spending more time here though!
There! Blasted you with .11 cents to make up for my lack of cents going your way on the last comment. Go buy yourself a ... cigar? Kidding. A cigar wrapper perhaps?
Poetry? Boy, you know, I do love poetry that is not overly contrived or that fits some kind of formula. I mean just look at one of the most famous poets of all: Rumi. He was inspired, not obedient to a formula. I think poetry is more divine, more a means of capturing the energy of words, of soul, and fitting them together. It is as if we have a kaleidoscope full of words and when turned to the right frequency a stunning (hopefully) picture emerges. It's all about feeling the energy, letting the energy of words speak to us, and allowing our souls to have voice, often in unexpected ways. You feel it too. One word is better than another. There seems to be the necessity of openness of receptivity to the right words. Well, and I think it is far better to let these etheric promptings be our guides rather than some strict formula learned from "formal education". I doubt Poe, or Keats or Longfellow took class work at the local college. Blessings.