Upstarts
Enjoy Roma’s Poem- The Mango Tree
Upstarts
Enjoy Roma’s Poem- The Mango Tree
You know you are a poet when you go to sleep, the last thing that comes to your mind as you sleep is poetry.
You know you are a poet when you cannot stop writing your poems drip out of every word you say, they have been dying to be written and think it it their right to be overwritten on bills, on business reports, on class notes and lab manual notebooks. You know you are poet when poetry swirls like magic dust out of the very matter around you. That magic dust enchants you, your pen, your paper and poems start to write themselves on pages and posts and laptop text editors.
You know you are poet when you have a feel for music, but you write poetry. When you have a feel for literature and stories, but you write poetry. When you have a strong feeling for the girl you are talking to in that coffee shop, but you are only really rating the date on the basis of how good the poem you write about her will be. You know you are a poet when everything in the world is a poem for you, but love still overwhelms you- to the point that even poems cannot be written by you. You know you are poet when you do not try to describe the feeling that is inside you. You simply talk about the things and places that got you to that emotion. You know you are poet when you just write what you want to write and you trust that your words are poetry. They do not need to be hammered in, they just fall in place. You know you are a poet when you cease to be one for moments when someone or something takes your breath away- suspended animation happens and the world slows down for you to experience. People take away a warm fuzzy feeling. Poets take away the smell of the air, and the color of the wall paint and the scent of her hair oil and perfume, as well as the warm fuzzy feeling. People see the sorrow of a situation and feel sad, poets can see the sorrow of the situation and save the sorrow into a poem so that that sorrow would always be remembered. Poets are creators of the best memories, and memories are time capsules, so poets make the best time capsules.
Poetry is me, punching out prose while it is itching to be worse, verse.
I curse and give in, it is not me writing- it is an emotion from within
Distilling emotion into what comes in, and layering feeling into what comes out
My poetry is not my poetry.
My oxymorons are tautologies
My tautologies are redundant
And this is all some high handed wordplay that is not even very good, I should stop here.
Free verse beckons, and it slowly draws near…
So that is the end of my word workout. An excersizing of my brain to turn out some words, keeping the insides well oiled and clunking away so when the the real poems do come, I will have the words to express them.