The poet in me doesn’t like to call himself a poet, nor a writer. (He loves to be called one though.) He doesn’t like to make too much fuss about words or grammar. (About anything, pirate remember…) Those are rules for other mortals that I don’t abide by. For me it’s about communicating, reaching out, touching, if you will. A heart, a soul. Release a tear, create a smile. It’s about spreading a message, that I don’t need to convince you off.
You are you. I am me. Together we’re us. In between there is a lot of white noise. It can be yellow, black, blue or orange for all I care. Because I don’t. Yes I do. No, I don’t. I do care about you. You having the freedom to speak your mind and not letting unspoken words poison your insides. I care about you having your opinion and your right to be wrong, to be sad, and to spread your happiness.
Would you still tell me all if I told you nothing at all? Would you believe in me if all I did was telling what I didn’t believe in? Would you still be reading if I didn’t speak out at all? That is why I write.
That is the poet in me. I want to write it down and be done with it. I want to spit it out and let you spit it too. See the differences and absorb them in new thoughts. Everything has it’s beauty, even the ugliness residing inside you. The darkest pain becomes bearable and suddenly there is light. Hope.
Poetry are merely words. Yet they pack such a powerful punch, they heal, they inspire, but the most beautiful of all, they remember. They become thoughts that will carry far into a future. It’s that message I want to bring. That love, in a distant memory.
I will dust off some of my older poetry as I grow into this blogging thing. They’ll come in different languages and I won’t translate them. If you paint a rose, it loses its beauty and so does poetry. Though they are just simply written words. I will tell one day about my adventures and the stages I got to climb as a young adventurer. I’ll remember the beautiful faces I still carry with me with the words once spoken.
I’m like a troubadour, but without the music.
Find my Poetry here https://recycledpirate.com/category/poetry/
5:25 Volcano (Awesome version where he involves the crowd)
13:57 Woman like a Man
19:46 The Greatest Bastard
24:19 I don’t want to change you
30:45 9 crimes (Guitar version instead of the usual piano)
46:40 I remember (sadly, without lisa hannigan)
57:52 Kiss (Prince cover)
1:03:50 Trusty and True