Jimi was crazy in his days of purple haze Getting tossed with the sauce As a mouse is stuck in its maze Had screaming sounds with his guitar He was a shooting star Never will there ever be a man quite like Jimi He was willing to achieve With hey Joe where you going with that gun in your hand
I hope society today will live to understand Playing his guitar with his tongue This may have frightened a tender hearted nun but it was all in fun Cross town traffic was fantastic He had a heart of gold To bad he had to die Jimi was the man with plan
Mario William Vitale is a poet with over 1,000 toward his platform. Vitale was born October 23rd, 1970 in Bristol, Ct. Currently living in Wolcott, Ct where he helps as a care taker for his elderly handicapped mother Ann. Vitale is featured as a writer on Poetrysoup, Writerscafe & Allpoetry. Has a fan base on facebook with over 650 followers. He started writing poems in 1989 after the break up of his first girlfriend as a way to cope with life.
I had a dream last night. It was very concise but interesting. Rather revelatory, but not prophetic in the usual way. There was a class with a facilitator encouraging input based on a lesson plan provided to the class. I,
Voltage charges power lines’ high wires All honest men die liers Her electric current runs tight by pliers My fires burn, they breathe, ash, and smoke Held so tightly I couldn’t help it my hand broke Shattered into a million
Riding slowly among the misty clouds The endless curves of mighty hills But i wonder it’s not fascinating me anymore Why i curtailed my world in you? Deep down there lays beautiful valleys Defining life beyond explanation But my soul