Well written, Phil. Unfortunately, I think the righteous blacksmiths of the past have been replaced by
pontificating piles of poop...exceedingly excessive explosions of excrement dressed in fancy suits are flooding the airwaves with their banal chatter to buy our votes with our money.
Sir, I think we're getting what we deserve in the US, sadly. I've seen the US electorate checked-out, too long lost in the glow of their mobile devices, not seeing anything beyond their silver screens (except those asinine tweets).
Your poem speaks a truth lost, or at least forgotten. Our "righteous blacksmiths" seem long gone, dead, and buried. But, as an American, I'm gifted eternal hope (or maybe it's delusion). A poem that burns hot long after reading. Love the artwork, too.
I know you use that phrase as a form of metaphor, Phil but.. for real: wherever they are they bring strength to others, Gentle giants for most. Have a few in this county.. good men and the greatest friends. .
Super writing: 5.7.5.. You've written in so few words what could be a tome to live by, to believe in, Phill. Thank you for being you.
Well written, Phil. Unfortunately, I think the righteous blacksmiths of the past have been replaced by
pontificating piles of poop...exceedingly excessive explosions of excrement dressed in fancy suits are flooding the airwaves with their banal chatter to buy our votes with our money.
WOW....from the graphic to the words....so powerful! The fires of truth....unfortunately I think they are often snuffed out. Wonderful work here, Phill. Lydi**
I am caught in a time spiral of confusion; that period we all experience between birth and death.
Somewhere inside hides a poet, writer, lyricist and/or whatever, laying dormant and suppressed by s.. more..