To Writerscafe

A Poem by Justaman

For everyone on Writerscafe

Let me show you all what real poetry is,
the correct or incorrect way to live or persist.
Everything in the universe is subsequently a whim.
Sometimes the thick and sometimes the thin.
poetry is
the beginning to expression and ink from the pen.
To show to what end.
They dont know what life that we live
or what appalling that were in
To the end to each hemisphere to each ocean or basin.
To each his or her own creation,
whether likened
to a high leveled rankin
or whether quivered in the ether of a postulated, beautified paintin.
The true meaning of the feeling of the heart,
whether or not
the tearing will tear you apart.
or whether each part
that you write will be aligned quite right or made into art.
I know the pain can be uneasy,
everyone who pained thee,
may have done it easily.
but something much harder will leave them that might to you, be pleasing.
And i know releasing
the emotions isnt at all easy,
when your heart gets clogged and your soul gets wheezy.
But all you have to do is get a little sleazy
with your writing, start citing the rhymes before you get too queezy.
Lift off into your spacious zone of comfort,
get comforted and get comfortable so you can sort
out the problems and port
out the depression like sortin out a sedative of words.
so you can show everyone ya lesson.
On the ground you will lessen everyone or show your writtens
at a poetical contest session.
But us poets, we aren't restin
were just looking for a way to express all of our expressions, underneath the tree or crevice
or above the shadows complexion
of ourselves
forming complexities like an intricately formed perplex-ion.
Although timid, our inks blots
will still hit the sentence whilst we ink the next devious plot.
We aren't sought
out to be gods so think and stop.
Try and swap
your demons for angels, end up losing what you fought
for, blood be your brother, darkness be your rot
but all that it brought
you, was a sharp hearkening in hate, of love, it was not.
Swapping each word with a word bank so your mind cant get seismically caught.
Theres no need for money in real poetry, no need for the pot,
because when we have words that are real, our souls are already bought.
On writing from the top and speaking from the bottom
The liars we will stop um, the truth got startled
and more disposal of thoughts to run so we can emotionally starve um,
even while were in autumn;
the poets will never stop writin, no naught, never not us.
From the compartmentalized heart that i have,
I am droppin
all that ive got for everyone on Writerscafe,
my renegade
of love that i hope will never go away.
As poets You are me,
And I am you
We are one, one complete non-individualized crew
IN many different segments,
like the multiverse
but still interconnected, through and through.