Poetry For the Soul
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Wednesday, August 13, 2008. Poetry For the Soul, Volume 1. Hello, my name is Robert A. Mingo and I am the Humanitarian Poet. I wrote a book called Poetry for the Soul, Volume I. Please ask your local book store to order it or contact me directly at robertall4oneyahoo.com for information on getting your own copy. Here is a sample of some of my work. Sometimes when were harmed. By friend or by foe. We harbor bad feelings. We refuse to let go. These feelings dont help us. Theyre all felt in vain. Http.CONTENT
This web page poetryforthesoul-v1.blogspot.com states the following, "Wednesday, August 13, 2008." We saw that the webpage said " Poetry For the Soul, Volume 1." It also said " Hello, my name is Robert A. Mingo and I am the Humanitarian Poet. I wrote a book called Poetry for the Soul, Volume I. Please ask your local book store to order it or contact me directly at robertall4oneyahoo. com for information on getting your own copy. Here is a sample of some of my work. By friend or by foe. We refuse to let go. These feelings dont help us. Theyre all felt in vain."SEEK SIMILAR DOMAINS
If I have hope, I have no reason to fear. If I love, many draw near. If I forgive, I will never again hate. If I am kind, it helps others to smile. If I am positive, I can always go that extra mile. If I am patient, I never again have to wait. If I am giving, all that I have I appreciate.
Poetry for the Young at Heart. Wednesday, November 28, 2007. TALKING WITH ARTISTS, ed Pat Cummings. THE MAN WHO WALKED BETWEEN THE TOWERS.
Wednesday, February 17, 2016. So I probably said this ages ago when I used to write properly but a lot of what I write just pops into my head randomly and I am compelled to write it. I truly hope to never feel that way again. Fear lances through my heart. Squeezes my chest in an iron-barbed grip. I have no control of this situation. Tears streaming down my face.
Dreaming words of caressful emotions. Drawn from this pool of expanding visions. You are my guide as you have been before. Only unknown in your existence. Until I found this memory. Which you have touched with your own hands. That you the Prophet has written. And placed in the path of my destiny.
Words that appeal to the senses. Putting how I feel each day. On paper, keeps me in. I use my pen and pad. Watching my inner most thoughts. Fill up the computer screen. Eases my worries and burdens. And cursing out all the people. It helps when I want to empty. My pounds of emotional baggage.