IMAGINE (Acrostic)
Ideas running wild inside
My mind as it sees many possibilities
And forming mental pictures
Guessing initially but rather knowing
Instead and proclaiming the unknown
Now in this moment as
Everything gets visualized then turned into a reality
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Inflationary Times….Post 3
Everything seems to just keep going up and up in price. I mean wow, and will this change for the better or get worse?
I remember when products/items/material goods, were far less expensive at one time. And I have watched even the smallest of items double or triple in price. This is wrong to say the least, and if we don’t speak up and get active to create any real change, then what exactly will be the results going into the future? The poorer is getting poorer, the middle class is barely in place, and the rich well, that’s a whole other thing. But even they are beginning to feel the pinch and bite of this high inflation as well. This is not a problem for some, but a problem for everyone in one way or another. Things are just getting harder and harder and the so called “American Dream” hmmmm, has become more like the “American Nightmare”. I gotta say and from my own personal and opinionated view, this is not the same place from 5 years ago, 10 years ago, even 20 years ago. And just why is that exactly? This is a question we must all answer for ourselves. Not only as individuals, but a society as a whole.
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Life is precious
Time waits for noone
And what we have here
Is the inability to see
Exactly what true living means
And with that, find real meaning
As opposed to just merely existing
No taking chances or risks
Not seeing things through
That is wanted or even dreamed
For what does one do
When it comes to not wasting
Any time at all
As we cannot rewind
Or do so after we die
For it must be done while we’re alive
Far less regret and instead
Getting feet and whole body wet
By doing what it takes
To truly live and just be
Not waiting but actionable
Not debating but taking steps forward
To move one’s life towards
The life always desired
So stop firing yourself
And hire yourself
Stop being less instead of more
And always work on the best project
As that will always be self
And see each day as a gift
As we should wake up and lift
Ourselves up and do so enough
Times that we reflect and shine
Passionately internalize and exercise
All choices possible to externalize
And live the reality that materialized
From just your thoughts alone
And followed up by fearless actions
For one’s life should be
A chain reaction of a said life
That leaves a legacy behind
And never waves goodbye
A life that freely gives
To you and from you
In parallel with light within
And less questions of why
Venturing out more and away from the crib
For many don’t want to die
But at the same time have been
So afraid to live
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The comeback
the revitalization—
of my personal poetic situation,
the two point oh—
getting my barrings,
and wits about me,
heart pumping and neurons firing,
pulse racing and fiery excitement,
that arrived but never went away,
for the day came,
that I felt the passion reignite,
a new leash on my poetic life,
new energetic properties,
with pulsating poetic thoughts,
and even the mere sounds of poetry,
propagating within—
both now and then,
for through poetry I intend to win,
and let the poetic chess game begin,
a light bulb moment,
of poetic ideas filled with new life—
a vital switch cut back on,
that has been there all along,
totally right and never wrong,
and been doing this from; an early teen to grown,
let alone being the poet,
that I choose to be,
for within my heart—
I am filled with a poetic symphony,
for within my mind—
no cacophony exists,
but rather a fire that persists,
and consists of an unlimited supply,
of poetic words and lines,
As I—
never ask why,
but rather takeoff and fly,
even more into the poetic realm of possibilities,
further artistic and various opportunities,
but to be fully aware and even fair,
when it comes to my natural poetic proclivities,
and to what else this could all mean,
well I’m ever accepting to this,
as poetry has become a target,
that I just can’t seem to miss,
and allowing myself—
because of this,
to dive even deeper into,
this poetical abyss—
For I—
would be remiss; to start and not finish this,
dedicated and activated,
as something anew,
for this poetic life; I will always choose,
with every personal and poetic ascension,
For I—
just can’t wait,
for the next poem to take shape,
As I—
welcome myself once again
to the art of poetry—
and my vast poetical intentions,
as I toast and enthusiastically cheer on,
and take this challenge head on,
Through my resounding reinvention.
PM
So you wanted to be
A poet
Or rather it chose you
And you either took a pause
Or immediately answered the call
And wandering where to start
For poetry is an art
That leads from both
Your mind and heart
And if you allow
It will become a huge part
Of your life
So don’t fret over the how
And don’t sweat the when
But rather just jump in
And take it head on
As with any art
And the boldness to do so
Yet nothing will happen at all
Or come to be
If you don’t just
Start immediately
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Staring off into this empty space
with passing thoughts of mine,
speaking into the confines; and listening I believe,
into the place that echoes me—
a mixture of light and the shadowy,
but within this area is only me,
yet there is such—
a strong presence here within,
feeling it with my arms crossed,
and the airiness against my skin,
for what I see here—
is an opportunity,
for me to just let loose; and be abrasive,
well I could do that,
but I decided to choose calm and meaningful,
so I began to speak,
from a personal memory in mind,
for in this moment; this is my time,
to shine and unwind—
in such a way that surpassed,
anything before,
as I’m speaking in between metaphors—
breathing heavily in anticipation,
of the secluded situation—
stepping into the dark for a second,
then began to speak deeply,
then moved back into the light,
where I felt more than alright,
no nervousness or fright,
being in my bright mind; but totally out of sight,
while being here in this place,
as I hear the sounds of my voice,
echo the very words of my choice,
and for a moment; it seemed as if,
the space was filled up,
with words that bounced,
back and forth—
between the walls and my face,
spoke a direct question, but no answer back,
for that would’ve been crazy if so,
but I just know,
that not for one second,
did I feel alone,
and prone to settle in here,
both in the light and dark,
and in the words spoken then disappear,
a cherished time—
that was all mine,
to just flow and know,
with each word composed—
that this was my humble abode,
and a very quaint retreat,
As I—
stood still and moved about,
with motivated feet—
and not once felt out of reach—
for I thoroughly enjoyed,
being in the place that echoed,
And cared enough; to listen to me speak.
PM
As poets
We become the words—
the written and heard,
the classic or absurd,
just simply; painting pictures with words,
lines and phrases,
nouns or verbs,
As poets,
We become the words—
in a world that we express,
within humanity to be nothing less,
a poetical success; as we possess,
a passion for the art—
that we often obsess over,
As we—
breathe life into poetry,
for each rhyme of the poetic lines,
signifies a thousand heartbeats that define,
as we clarify the thoughts of a poetic mind,
artistic and dignified,
poetic ideas classified—
until they land upon the page,
As we—
the poets continue to engage,
and wage poetical war upon each page,
As poets,
We become the words—
and the very surge of poetic energy;
and watch as we—
continue to converge,
and aim to emerge; at a higher poetic level,
unseen and unheard—
as we tend to,
smile at each subject and verb,
definitions and meanings—
held in place; with each poetic greeting,
but we never wave goodbye,
or move away from poetry—
As poets,
We become the words,
within concentrated fields and layers,
within devoted years and the purveyors,
artists and wordsmiths—
for when it comes to poetry,
we just can’t seem to resist,
writing or reciting,
as poetry feels so inviting,
pen in hand and held firmly by,
a very determined wrist—
paper just waiting to be filled,
and in these moments for us,
time seems to stand still,
just for us,
As we—
follow our minds and hearts,
instead of a syllabus,
poetic imagination running wild,
and doing so with a smile,
As we—
hold the poetical keys,
for what we do isn’t theoretical,
we just simply be,
with the joy of building each one,
upon completion; after what we’ve done,
for we are not the straight line,
but rather the curve—
and poetry gives back to us; what we deserve,
to share or self serve,
and not to be unnerved,
for with each poetic line—
we fly and climb like the birds,
so forget what you think,
what you might have heard,
or believe to know—
and from what may or may not occurred,
For we—
For we—
As poets,
Have truly become the words.
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I am on a poetic mission
With every poetic rendition
And I’m not waiting for permission
For I give myself permission
To be more of me
And as to what I can poetically achieve
The overall authority
To readily write poetry openly and freely
For I’m not waiting for what anyone may think
As I have lived on the edge and creative brink
Through the rough and tough and too much
Primarily due to someone believing I’m not enough
But so out of sorts and touch
With reality and the deepness of us
That is me and artistry
Me and also the art of poetry
The very thing that comes to me naturally
Skillfully and soulfully
Wholeheartedly and creatively
As I will no longer wait
To be the real me
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I have the right to express
And not suppress
I have the freedom to express
And do nothing more or less
I have the mind to express
And the desire to be a poetic success
For I have the heart to express
And surpass even at my best
I have the strength and poise
To bring on the poetic noise
Along with the soul to further attest
For nothing or no one will ever keep me
From all the ways to express
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Being a Poet….Post 1
One of the best things to ever happen to me. And one that I don’t take lightly or for granted. Though quite a journey for me, and for the majority quite nice. But I cannot say that ups and downs haven’t occurred. As with any artist and their artistry, this will and can happen from time to time. You second guess a piece, you’re wondering if to share it or not, life happens and maybe you’re not as active with it. But no matter what, keep pushing, keep on being that poet and the best one you can be.
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