Poetry Is… Poem by Bill Cantrell

Poetry is a black hole
For those who dare cross its event horizon,
they are consumed by its rapacious appetite,
Thus, they consume in the process,
as the world continues to spin
As for me?
I say, let me live life as a poem,
rather than pen intent

Poetry is light
Get too close and you shall surely burn
It can reach incredible highs and heights,
And depths of your hearts wants
Be careful of its charm,
for it knows very well
how to dress with just you in mind
I say, let me shut my eyes,
less it's light blind me to reality

Poetry is an oddity
It has neither height, nor depth, width or mass
In the physical sense
Yet in the minds eye, it exists!
Yes, but to what end?
I say this in my own case,
admittedly, I just don't know

Maybe one day, I will be compelled
to cross its threshold of no return,
Or embrace the light,
No matter how hot it's burn
But as for now,
I just choose to dance with her,
At least until I get to know her moves,
for poetry is also a woman,
and as all know, women can be moody