You Are Not The Poet - Poem by Tsani Jones
You can never utter the lines
Never speak the stanzas I
So desperately want to hear...
It is hidden, buried, the dirt
Piled high on flaming pyres
Of past wishes and present
You cannot, dare not, voice
The phrases of ancient languages of our love
Written in blood on your heart -
To do so brings pain.
Pain is the worn track from
Which you have tried to escape -
Life's illusion is so much gentler,
The other path outweighs the present result.
You are not the poet -
But every glance into your eyes
Formulates the very thoughts
You suppress - into tea roses and midnight jasmine.
The deep cuts, the tears and agony
With one hand
While the other holds
Gauze and Bactine.
You cannot be the poet,
For every smile spells
The words only a soul in love can
You write everything that is
Beautiful in this world to me
On a blanket of stars
With a single bat of your eye.
No, you are certainly not the poet,
My only true love.
You are not the weaver of words,
You are the poem.
Comments about You Are Not The Poet by Tsani Jones
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You