First Flow

I want to slam my poem.

Speak it out loud and show it to the world

But I have to make it

Flow first.

I am sick of all the rhyming and syllable counting

Trying to make a pattern out of something that's not.

I am sick of cutting out words and editing them until the meaning is gone.

I want to say what I mean

And mean what I say.

But you have to make it

Flow first.

These words should ignite your fire and let it burn bright.

When I am done and gone, these words are for you. 

To let you get it all out,

Don’t hold it back, don't hold it in.

These words that make this poem:

They don’t have to be good  

or witty 

or smart

or pretty…

They just have to 

mean what they say

And say what they mean.

But we have to make it

Flow first.

Even as I write this, I have to turn my brain off.

Let the first word flow

The first stanza fl-

Wait.

There are no stanzas.

 Because this poem is free.

As free as the words flying out of my mouth.

As free as a flowing waterfall.

Yes.

Because that's what this is.

A free fall.

And I’m falling so fast as I try to get out all that I want to say before my brain has time to stop.

Because this waterfall has just begun

And that's all there is to it

And I know this now because I see the

First flow.