Sleeping on the wings of poetry


15

I’ve satisfied the poetry in me
by mastering luminous humility
I can chew personal poems in
the meditation against coercion

it’s a lifelong habit to read & write
though I’d prefer a mandarin certificate
than another restoration of crisis
through and by writing, soaring there –

I’ve satisfied the poetry in me
or so I always think, before and after
I wrote the last, till the penning of the next
veering upward like a pigeon with

an unworldly frown, I laugh to think
at how the car honks, door slams, angels cry
of a trillion worlds, while I can simply write
poetry is the last beautiful language
difficult though it has always been to me.

poetry courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Scintillate-402634741

This is the poetry


14

This is the poetry of all my years
with the rhythm that drops like water molecules
and the tongue of holy fires
that shoots with the breath that never-stops

This is the poetry designed for rants
that elegantly convey the big-mouth chanting
of an oppression and growth
of a thousand preaching words of subjectivity

This is the poetry of freedom
it gets enchained in singularities
and skips over synchronicity for thrills
of divine flavors past Shakespeare

This is the poetry that dares to search
for new manners of the riddle of words
into the silence of the great canvas
of art always becoming more personal

This is the poetry of body shaking pride
the quick and childishly glib facade
of the imagination stretched as far as a new nation
that connects all philosophers and poets in time

chanting a single written phrase
This is the poetry from the universe of life
the experience that no sociology can comprehend
the dreaded degree of loving necessity

when I talk to myself in poetry I talk
through all the wild poetry of your eyes.

Poetry Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/The-zoo-397858926