The grateful adventure
.......................
As I have lived through poetry
As it has lived through me
I have gained so much hope
A strength that grows stronger
Teaching me how to adapt
Teaching me how to cope
Atop this unbalanced notion
Of devotion and all
My wherewithal
Through even uncertain times
Choking on doubt
And it's double edged sword
Even then through this swerve
It was still around
And prevalent and important to me
Yes, it was, my sweet dear poetry
Some may think expression may be paltry
But I take them all for their priceless worth
In fact, this very art all my love
This love of this poetic coping
Is the very foundation
Very important to me
As these visions explore
Endless possibilities
Oh, how these eyes get lost
This mind travels into another realm
Fantasizing everything from the distance
I am in fact, nor here, nor there
But everywhere from here
The paradox I dwell
But there are struggles
I have cried many tears
In the sea of these musings
Trying to release self
From my own abuse
Enslaved by these emotions
Torrential chaos
The black mass that surrounds
All of this blue
Yet, I fight and I fight and I fight
And poetry is always there
Through every scratch and crawl
Always there
Everywhere and anywhere
From now and then
To the present time
And all that remains…
Poetry is life
My utmost dedication
Many loves, many tragedies
From reality, to fiction…
I cannot help but dream away
The nightmares into bulletproof realms
Muster all that I have ever had
And fight this inner battle
In which I shall finally win!
Poetry has been my island
Upon its own world
In a systematic enigma
Based in a galaxy of hope
Upon a universal love
Yes, Love and endurance…
Through pain and all
Poetry, it has always been here
Never a stranger
Weapons of stanzas
Without any fear
Indeed it has always been here
And then it continues
From whichever form it may be
Maybe something
Perhaps the best achievement
Is to feel personally achieved?
A poem's secret is always good with me
What may form of a future revolution?
From within these dreams
Perhaps, something symbolic
Representing in the form of metaphors?
I am broken in some ways
Fixed in others
A mess of a man
But I will be damned
If I ever change..
Cause through it all
I have learned so much
And there is so much after that…
I have lived, breathed poetry
And it has given me something to hold onto
And I am honored, I am blessed
Grateful in fact
That this mind, heart
And this soul is intact
All thanks to something
That has always believed in me
My sweet release, Poetry
I am home within its endless abode
Through everything and all
What may poetry do to you?
What may it be through me?
Where would you like to go?
There are so many different
Styles and forms
In my utmost confession
I have died many times
To live for many days
But poetry it was there
To put back the pieces
To these thoughts of confusion
To myself, to myself alone
From being alone
I write poetry it gives me company
And it always sets me free
Poetry, sweet poetry
It has always believed in me
Welcome to my humbled abode
I shall share and share all of my forms
Always getting the best out
Even the worst out of me
As hard as life can be
As grateful as I can be
There is still the lingering
Of these punishing thoughts
Comes a heart torn and distraught
But somehow the light flickers
Deeply within
And it shines beautifully
There she is, Poetry
I do not care
Nor shall I stay in one place
I will always be everywhere
There will always be
A bevy of regressive relief
Poetry has been so good to me
If only there was a way
That I could repay
The debt I have from
Being able to emote, release…
Yes, Poetry has been very good to me
Through every flaw and mistake
It has always believed in me
So what do I do next?
Anything and everything
That I possibly can…
Poetry, Is the catharsis of my own personal reprieve
Whichever that may truly mean…
This blood type is poetry
As this heart beats in its glory
And as this adventure soon ends
I shall take this all home
I am a poet forevermore
Beyond it all
I have lived through poetry
And for that I shall live even more
And on and on and on
Was I write to right in this course?
Never correct a free poet's discourse
I am just a poet
And nothing more
Bettering myself
In life and in art
I am a dyslexic poet after all
Sitting proudly and diligently
Vigilant in a reckless accord
Would you like to see more?
Signed,
The vigilant Poet's manifesto
Ps. where this will go
This is an experiment
That is for sure!
My condolences,
The vigilante Poet's Manifesto
Create! Create! Procreate! Conceive!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A nice poetic imagination, James. You may like to read my poem, Love and Lust. Thanks