A Poet's Life Poem by John Chizoba Vincent

Do not stand at my grave and weep
If you can't offer me goodness now
That I am blosoming with life ventures.
The better angel of our black nature
Might not know a poet but a poet lives
With his life surrounded with obstacles
Which seems lost and unstable to behold.


A Poet sleep not but always awake
Creating and cancelling lines to suit.
He is here or there thinking on the
Next poem to write which will educate.
He is a thounsand winds that transform men,
Though not present, but his words work
Wonders to the eyes that behold them in open.
Life of a poet is full of imagery and metaphor.



A poet's life is the diamond that preserve dreams,
He foresees what will happen tomorrow but
Sometimes his prophesy push him to demons.
The sunlight that reflect the world lies in the blissful
Life of a poet who plays the tune that sweet the earth.
He is the rain that showers happily but
The people abuse him righteously in a glance.
A poet's life is a life thinking and meditation.



In life, pens are the legs, and book, a friend.
Relaxation could be at flash that torture atoms.
Marriage, a bed of hell buttered with fierce
Hatred of a sweet bitterlove 'cause no time to love.
Children, at the mercy of their own because
Their father as a poet must attend to his calls.


A poet's life is impeccable,
Leisure admonished with wired eyes soaring for
A simile that could unstable the winds that call.
A poet's life has no definition of itself base on
The perception of the people or the critics there.
His life is the star that shines in the night to
Embarrase the faceless moon and invite the darkness.


The life of poets are the future hidden in the sun.
Though confronted with many challenges of life
But it face back on track of redeemption at dawn,
Never giving in to the white motion of fear.



(C) John Chizoba Vincent
Voice Of Vincent 2016