My Name is Minerva, I was born to Write?

Why, do I write? I was born to do just this! 
I write to free my mind … which, gives me right
I am not a goddess, am an artist with pen-paper
With a torch to love …

I never claimed to be a masterpiece, am at ease 
With squid’s ink that can be reuse …
Proof is God’s woods holds rain-sunned in 
He’s no other but, our God that, till this date

A hero, pinned to a cross nails and all
A Superman, the only one not made of steel 
The real Houdini, no one can replace nor race
The real magician, rose a man from their grave   
           … And from the dead 

He’s a philosopher of words 
Preached loved not hate 
He sad with sinners and those with plaques 
He had no plaque in his walls but, love 

Now, I claimed to be a soldier of words …
That I like to defend it to serve me, right
To release subjects and contents by the oceans
For my countrymen and countryside’s to witness 

In all sides of the USA and elsewhere …
With courtly rights, to declare my bravery 
In words and penmanship …
Onto a ship that waved our flags 

I write to the mountains and skies 
To the moon and multiple of suns 
To the sons and daughters of yesterdays 
They may be in the graves, as they can’t say 

To the children of today’s …
To the offspring’s’ of tomorrows 
To the sorrows of the day, to go away 
To the death of the day to disappear melt away 

To those oceans, where its life don’t divide 
To the weak and meek to stand strong 
To the Italians of the days, whom printed art 
To the Russians, whom rose music 2new heights

To those scientists, like Galileo Di Vincenzo de’
Galilei, a Florence man, astronomer of his days 
A physicist and engineer by day, polymath born in Pisa, could he eat pizza today and every day? 

He marked his prints with his sparks …
Today, is in ink and in the parks, we hear of him
Through history
Thus, man’s work never fails 

He never proved …
To be weak but, could think 
We can give him credits 
For his unique hands and mind 

Like his notifications and observations 
Of many sciences of things …like the sunspots
The moon’s craters as pitted/mountains
The phases of Venus … 

Jupiter’s moons, Milky Way stars
There’s still more …
Like the pendulum of our clocks 
With his telescopes Jupiter’s 4 moons 

He knew was no hoax in his mind of stars
He saw onto the future 
With maturity or none 
Life 1564- 1642, blind sadly with melodies 

A true genius of his time … with a glass of wine
Like Michelangelo, a masterpiece 
Where do man of the past get educated? 
With no other, then the God’s?

Is it Athena, of Athens wisdom to no ends 
In medicine, handicrafts, the arts 
Commerce with verse … as is poetry 
War of passion with endless reactions 

Apollo: Music, medicine and sun 
Calelus: Sky, theology, iconography, literature 
Cupid: No other but love … you be that God   
That often judge not me 

Luna: Goddess of moon
Flora: Of flowers 
Jupiter: Thunder and sky 
Juventas: Youth

Saturn: Renewal, regeneration, liberation, wealth
              Time, clone could also be among 
Venus: Love/beauty 
Terra: Earth 
Vis: God of force, power and the all might 

Mars: God of war
Mercury: That God of tricksters, messenger
                 Travelers, shopkeeper 
Neptune: God of sea and earthquakes 
What:       Exactly God don’t see 

Athena, Greek; Minerva, Roman 
The God’s are asleep not too deep 
The real one died
still lives today … and the rest of the days

Minerva A. Garcia, your Poet

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