cunningly
covered in the canvass of his truth
even the black on white had beautiful
hues
arranged in charismatic candor
he painted perfect pictures
through the eyes of imperfection
and the elements of his soul
came together like earth and rain
born again with each seed plotted
on sultry cloth
the paper spurned as new life grew
once spoken the wind of words
would serve
as a battle cry
of a warrior
for good
it was paper
His shield gave him powers
the sword of omens couldn't cut
his mouth protected by its audio
he swung his sword as loud as
possible
and as swift as a hurricane's breeze
his words struck thunderously
combined with pen and paper
his mate and his cloth
an emotionally ravaged warrior
this was his salvation
the mic his shield
the words, his sword
his enemy, himself
never alone
only willing ears could comfort him
and so they did
listen to the peacefulness within
the warrior
and everyone witnessed
the power and passion
of a pen, a pad and a microphone
A Foreword
By Miles
(EARCANDYINC.COM)
THE FOLLOWING POEM WAS
WRITTEN TO DESCRIBE
Maurice Copeland
Any attempt to separate Maurice
him from his pen would be suicide
for without his mate he would die
she was his mistress of the night
plain black on white
with no in between the lines to fight
it was cut and dry
words that made the mouth spill
just because it had to be said
written
the decision was made
his bed he laid
not afraid
he displayed penmanship
with the courage of heroic Hercules
he colored outside the lines
his power refined and redefined
able to write magnificent
monuments
in a single sentence
able to leap large lies
with a truth
able to correct the world with
a metaphor
it was his pen