Fever; An Acrostic Poem

Acrostics are free verse poetry structured to spell out a word or group of words with the beginning letter of each line. 
Let's say were are going to write an acrostic to coincide with the word FEVER

Few folks feel fervent about
eventual 
visual variances
expecting 
revolutionaries.

I am quite fond of writing of writing acrostics to much longer groups of words. Sometimes the words end up in sync with the message in the text, sometimes they make no sense to one another at all! Totally disconnected. Only the letters of the title are needed to give it that title. A guideline more than a title, really. I could easily come up with a better name for most of them than the words used for inspiration.

Here's one I wrote earlier today while watching a documentary about kids in NYC and Sierra Leon discovering worlds far apart through the mail. They basically all became pen pals. I was eating strawberry ice cream and drinking hot tea while listening to Brownstone and Red Dirt on hulu. I played Solitaire online at the same time. 
Poetry comes from everywhere. The muse can come alive at any moment! If you aren't paying attention when the muse starts handing out the good stuff, you're throwing that good stuff away. You'll never be able to retrieve it from the trash can of the memory. Won't happen! Snag it while it's fresh! Snatch it from the muse as it is offered. It ain't all good stuff, but you won't know if you don't take it.

Little Black Kids, Hot Tea, Ice Cream and Solitaire

Love comes in all different forms.
I need it.
They need it.
The whole of mankind needs it.
Love cures and endures all.
Each of us needs it.

Black and white,
little and tall
all kids are special beings.
Certain systems implanted long ago
keep the love from being spread evenly.

Kindness in mail from New York to Serria Leon
instills in small souls the
decadence of love from afar,
simple acts of kindness bestowed.

Here I sit in the middle of it all.
Observing on film the spectacle to be.
There's love on paper, arriving to behold.

Time is a healer with helpers everywhere.
Endeavor to find the love anyway you can.
Alarms mean nothing if you can't hear them.

Ice on hearts
creates a banner opaque
endangering the warmth within.

Creative emotions override the hate,
reviving hope in written words from someone new.
Enemies become smaller in the scheme of it all
and babies play games on safe streets close to home.
Masses are saved from the atrocities of wars.

Alms of faith in questions asked,
necessary for knowledge in the heart to absorb.
Dreams come true in reality sometimes.

Spacing the words in the span of time,
over the miles those words steep into fine wine.
Love only multiplies the fires we tend in our minds.
Ink on paper brings it all alive.
Tales of life told by young minds
allowing another to know what binds
reasoning with life and
everyone benefits in kind.
1 December 2012