Here I write about myself
and at times my personality is far too strong
my leadership wants to take control
wants to cut into conversations,
wants to teach people,
wants to get involved,
to make a better place out of the world
and all the time I am learning
how other poets brew their words
and maybe my spirit
is just too bold
and I am looking right through the enchantment
of beautiful ladies
and marsh right through
until I get my target
as if determination
locks her claws around me
and to one I stay true
as if I am a saint
and her soul is driving me deeper.
I know no fear
as war has changed
my humanity
and when I write poems,
I am myself,
at other times a spectator
who measures out time and space,
keeps book of the pain,
tear through rottenness
and illustrate beauty
and in vain I try
to walk in the steps
of the big word master,
as a true follower
but with my own talent
and the whole time
my feet comes down
like military boots in the right pace
but following a different march
as if I do not know
how to parade my poems
l’Envoi
and here I write about myself,
about how my life is
and when I get home
I listen to the voices
of Dylan Thomas,
Douglas Livingstone
and every great poet
that I can lay my hands on,
see what are written in their works
before I grab a glowing hammer
and hit words into forms
as if I can melt
thunder and fire together
to words that stays crackling.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Magnificent poem with great imagery and wisdom. Very deep indeed. A poignant write. I sincerely invite you write a comment on my poem 'False beauty.'