Process

Process

 

 

 

 

When you see a star

as a bullet-hole in god’s velvet

curtain

or a homeless vet as a king

when the ring ‘round your tub

is a commentary

on the class division in Ameriky

or a single soggy cheerio

a rebuttal

of adult superiority �"

 

when you see academics as the cloud

hanging over a library

as gargoyles

or your mind erupts

with love songs

for an aged truck

with love-stained seats from

a midnight

 

assignation �"

 

when words erupt from a pen, a crayon

your mouth, like diarrhea from a goose

on the loose where empty leaves

are unborn children

and the very sky begs for your poems �"

 

when you madness yourself thinking

in metaphors and odd yourself

to your fellows

or bellow sonnets without

provocation

in a biker bar �"

 

or if you find yourself screaming

the truth to the blind ears

of the merchant

with adjectives scattered through

a run-on sentence that flows

like a river in Xanadu

because you must

inflict magic on journals

that proclaim the glory

of Dick and freakin' Jane

and pages of navel gazing

drivel cause you physical pain -  

 

when you trust yourself to plead

on behalf of the thinker

the verbose tinkerer

in a desert of empty verse - 

 

when you cut yourself

on the world

and bleed words - 

 

 

you just might be a poet.

 

 

 

 

 

Reviews

[Nishant Gupta]

nice lines read mine too "QUEST OF LIFE"