If Poets Were Rock Stars

If poets were rock stars,we'd be on your Lear,we'd jettison off, whilst sipping Henri IV Dudognon Heritage Cognac & Quoting the Literary giants, whose shoulders, upon which we stand. We'd sing sweet nothings into the wilderness and know for sure, that the sweetness will be touched, received and passed and forever it would last. We'd have time in our hand and meet everyday to research and bounce view off view, we'd come to a conclusion and then a few, with opened mind we'd swap our rhyme, sing then sit, to fine dine. We'd cross that fine line, use any sign, that symbolises change, we'd rearrange and put back together the estranged, we'd sooth the enraged and we'd find the aged and serve them elixir cocktails.

 If poets were rock stars, we'd be on your Lear, we'd jettison off, to see what's left of old Rome, we'd go to Cairo, journey into the tomb, find that special brick, that unlocks all of the mysteries, as we travel and settle into the centre of that great pyramid of life, we'd realise there's no up and down, no need to wear a kingdom crown, in the centre, it all feels gentler, equal, equals, equal agenda. We'd commission an exploration, to locate and raise Atlantis from the murky depths, reverse that day and night to fortune.

If poets were rock stars, we'd be on your Lear, we'd jettison off, Eat caviar and sturgeon we'd be free from every burden, except to say, we'd pay by unburdening others, speak for those who know not what to say. If poets were rock stars, we'd be on your Lear, we'd jettison off, to a far off and exotic land, that hasn't yet been spoiled by human hand and on the way we'd play useless games with words and cross our minds as one, as we channel wisdom and treasure finds. No confines, no chain or ball, no limit or ends, no cage or net, travelling supersonic in our jet, no time for regret, as the future hasn't happened yet, but it won't be long before its here. Glimpsed it in the now and as it passes by and fades, instantly replaced by infinite shades. Shades of potential, neither dark nor glow, Its up to us how we chose to bestow.

 If Poets were rock stars we'd be on your Lear, we'd jettison off, and land by a lake, we'd visit the lady that in Loch Katrine lay, We'd sing limericks and lyrics to lift her spirits. Together we'd heal all clan that are rifted. We'd tell stories of human hearts and how humans came apart and why humans should start to start and see real smart that we all belong to each other.

If poets were rock stars, we'd be on your Lear, we'd jettison off and we'd come back home, we'd smells the familiar scents in the air, we'd breath a deep breath and forget our despair, we'd see sights and sounds that bring us joy.After a break it all looks great as we celebrate and now we're home, We contemplate, and as we do we realise that our rock star guise, and supersonic Sky's can not disguise what's in front of our eyes, maybe are our lives personifies a rock stars lies. We may have it all and more, as i said once before its up to us how we choose to bestow, the future is ours until it travels and passes, until it fades, infinite chooses in infinite shades, so try and look for the brightest hues, apply them to your daily views, if in doubt consult your muse. If poets were rock stars, we wouldn't be poets.