It’s poetic language

And the unique translation of poetry
Into words and times

That began but never truly end
Also forming lines

Along with shaping poems that can really

Remind and define

Takeoff and fly

So to be fluent in poetry
Is to see poetry

Even when blindfolded
With the ability to speak in poetic terms

Without repetition
And to find meaning where

They wasn’t any before

By defintion

All while being efficient and proficient

And never poetically deficient

As I

Think of poetic words being the waters

That I decided to fit inside of the very best glass

As each poem is a class in what

Poetry could always be

For the paper and screen awaits me

The ink always remembers me

And the keys typed forge my fingerprints

For even in this, the poem recognizes me

As its a heartbeat with words

That emerge and converge

As a sunny day in the afternoon

With a steady pulse of phrases

And keeps count of lines ever present
For when poetry calls, I will always answer

So I’m not searching for poetry

Because it’s already found me

And I am home

I’m just visiting and returning with each poem

What was given to me to craft

What was given to me to create and be 

Written to see and read

And to speak so rhythmically

As I

Use these said poetic words

Ever so fluently

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