My poetic mind
never takes a vacation—
and frankly; it doesn’t know how to,
ever since poetry introduced itself to me,
born a poet; but just didn’t know it,
and what does this mean exactly?
well, been trying to figure this out,
over time—
and all I can come up with is,
just be it without question,
just be it without any explanation,
just be it because honestly; I just want to,
I don’t need any other reason than that,
as poetry has always had my back,
the place to reside and abide in,
whenever and wherever—
So there.
For poetry occupies my mind,
constantly—
and open to it consistently,
why? I don’t have to answer that,
for no one but myself—
why poetry? why not poetry?
as I—
appreciate it; and it appreciates me,
every since the age of thirteen,
every since the year of eighty eight,
for that is how long; poetry has been,
a part of me and who I am,
poetry on the brain—
and remains like; the very oxygen that I breathe,
the very pulse and heartbeat,
blood flowing and neurons firing—
so if this is any indication,
of my poetic admiration,
then take all of my poetic demonstrations,
and poetical creations—
to mean that it and I,
have been quite the duo,
for a very long time—
and will always be this way,
my real life passion; and my story from day to day,
as I watch in awe—
as each poetic piece takes shape,
and reach into further depths,
of repeat focus and motivation—
just more of poetry and me,
and my poetic testimony; for all to see,
through every poetic intention,
and in the center of each; poetic invention,
as my,
poetic mind will never take,
a rest or a vacation—
And this is a poet’s story.
PM
