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Super-Licensed Poet
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I am a poet now
I no longer speak as before
no tear-shaped teardrops
trickling slowly down my cheek
I cry buckets,by the bucket,
bucketfuls of bucketdrops
neither, now, do I whine
nor whimper 'bout life's trifles
I yowl,
I howl
and growl
foul
and certainly no more dozing
or drifting into sleep
as of now, I pass out cold
in existential degradation
fibs
prevarications
way too small anymore
when I lie
I lie big
as this piece demonstrates,
exaggeration is a prime tenet of my poetry
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Comments
Eduardo Cruz
Fri, 2011-04-22 03:19
Al
Your not alone my brother.
Is it not what we all do, stretch the truth for the sake of poetry, then we have the nerve to call it artistic License.
Those words still make me laugh, your right, a bunch of fucking liars. it's ok though, if not for the beautiful moments we would all be lost. ours is to take something and make it bigger than life.
I like the truth in your writing.
"A painter
can paint a bird in flight
but it's the poet
that give it wings to fly"
LIFE ISN'T ABOUT WAITING FOR THE STORM TO PASS
IT'S ABOUT LEARNING HOW TO DANCE IN THE RAIN.
VIVIAN GREENE