Poetry is not
social climbing
its stairs somehow
are not easy to make
hands are trembling
and body is having
its uncalled for seizures.
when i am lost
poetry is a map.
when life is messy
it becomes a mop.
when life becomes
harsh, unbearable
or questionable,
it becomes my
saving grace
although poetry does
not provide the answers,
it creates an ambiance
for solitude where life
smooths out like a
flatiron to my crumpled
shirt,
it's a hammock
where i can sleep and
a checklist what to do
for the rest of the
fearful hours.
poetry is therapy.
it embraces those who
belong to the category
of the injured,
the confused,
the stricken,
the bleeder,
the crying loser,
the depressed
and even those on
the verge of
insanity
those who go out of the
herd
jump over the fence,
steal the moon,
sifts the light of the sun,
decant poison,
concoct
a potion, and
like those goldfish
or salmon or koi
run counter the flow
and rage against all
odds
of the masses
to become enlightened
to be cured,
to be whole
again,
to be integrated back
to life,
to the pulse,
to
glory,
to Light
to God.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem