Verbi Potens Sacra Est : Sobs and Songs of My Years

By Ernst Delma

Poetry for peace is the scorching pen That erases the pain The broken pieces collector that solidifies harmony between Men The beguiling potion that tastes like venom The hand of a poet is the only hand That erases the bad things through unwavering words To allow the soft words to sound marvelous. The poet's anger is the only wrath that procures peace. The only troublesome endeavor that keeps hope alive The poet's criticism is the only remedy that hurts and heals The only remarkable remedy that hurts first to heal after. The poet deranges the status quo to arrange the institutionalized anarchy Denounces the pretense to announce the advent of the brotherhood parade. Only the poet, to parody the Haitian eclectic Etzer Vilaire, "Writes for all those that are tormented by life's dramas and all other problems of human's destiny".

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Apr 6, 2011
• ISBN: 9781257424474

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Verbi Potens Sacra Est

Sobs and Songs of My Years

Ernst Delma

Table of Contents

Title Page

What is poetry, and how do poets conform themselves to its definition?

A simple word PEACEA simple word PEACE

Until When…Poetry again

Poetry for Humankind

A poet

Allow the poet

Between heaven and earth

Armed with a rose

The little orphan’s song

Fallen high into immortality

Seen it all

The runners of the infinite race

Chimers in layers

Quo vadis mater vita

Jumbling dreams

Please poet, do

Self-criticism

Tenacity

A poet’s soul

Contemplation

As is…no guarantee

Winged geometricians

Laborers of joy

No wonder

A mother

A lifetime on the death row

Genuine heroism

Necropolis

Bitter remembrance.

When the fruits are ripe

Dialogue of birds

The maniacs of Hope

Why

You

In dedicating this compilation of my poetic surge to your appreciation, I want to reiterate my fondness for Mr. Victor Hugo’s grandiose belligerence as it justifies my own incapacity of being the poet I always dreamed to be, a classic versifier an adept of Emily Dickinson for example, a disciple of Jean Racine. Isn’t she, still today, one of the most deliberately pro-found English expression poets and a faithful disciple of Jean Racine in my humble opinion the most artistic of all versifiers?

The author of ‘Les Misérables’ has proclaimed:"I have dislocated the silly Alexandrin. I set a hurricane at the bottom of the inkpot" Personally, I would hate to impose a barrier to poetic thought, poetry being a forceful and dedicated mindset. Verses like birds prefer to fly freely and propel the echoes of their songs to all four horizons. Verses are handicapped by measures, suffocated by constraints. Strict obedience to rhyming is like imposing a harsh limit to human thought. Verses are like a graceful pair of feminine breasts, they hate the constriction of too tight corsets.

Strong of this conviction of mine and respectful, by personal penchant to Hugo’s prescription, I have chosen to let my observation take the hand of my imagination to freely lead my inspiration toward the mined land of mental liberation through poetry. I hope the reader will spare me of harsh censure. Far to be the work of a master poet and a fine artist, it is the attempt of just a poet or perhaps just another man who dreams a poet’s dreams. Thus speaking, allow me to remind you of Edgar de la Selve’s prediction that does justice to all failures and forgives all breaches in human endeavors:" To deserve the esteem, it is not necessary to have done great things, it is often enough to have tried."

Ernst Delma

Poetry for peace is the scorching pen

That erases the pain

The broken pieces collector that solidifies harmony between Men

The beguiling potion that tastes like venom

The hand of a poet is the only hand

That erases the bad things through unwavering words

To allow the soft words to sound marvelous.

The poet’s anger is the only wrath that procures peace.

The only troublesome endeavor that keeps hope alive

The poet’s criticism is the only remedy that hurts and heals

The only remarkable remedy that hurts first to heal after.

The poet deranges the status quo to