The life and crimes of a poet

Poetry is a mystery no detective can cover but all society can create
For no definition can capture the styles, and profiles 
Or the rhematic bums tip taping to the mouth like a drum
Whether it is slamming, and jamming or 
Simply soothing the soul with soft pitches unknown to man
For the rolling of the tongue is best for me
Floating on the cloud of poetry

Words outspoken in context
Whispering all means of insanity

Forming Orgies of words over one another
Pleasuring each other like a hormonous mist has passed through
Until they explode through the mind
The corporation of words 
The aah’s and ooh’s 
He’s and who’s
Me’s and you’s

The tears of despair, of care and for our pulled pieces of hair
the feeling of finally finishing the first sentence
For a task so easy becomes the perfectionist challenge
As no poet will accept a poem unless it flows like the Mississippi River
Growing a beard, wrinkles forming on the face from the years of standing and wondering
HOW, OH HOW you are going to rhyme you and to
In the most arousing way that your reader will beg you to bless them with your poetic power
And you will say “NO!” for poetry has its own power within us all

And when it awakes
BEWARE!
For you will never be the same again!
You will change color and form until you become a werepoet
Howling to call your clan of thesauruses 

To destroy all dictionaries
For poets make their own words
Words so fantabuloso that you will be crowned the almighteous warrior of vocabunomics 
And you will sound like an alien from the planet Politerus
Shouting the commandments to our GODS!
Pencifilus and Braino
With the power vesting within me 
I pray to Pencifilus
Please do not let my pencil write words, for they scare my loose-leaf away, I have been to the store so many times and  my words become to pleasurable that the loose-leaf runs away. AMEN”
But Pencifilus will laugh “Then don’t write” 
So you pray to Braino
Oh mighty Braino,

Bless me with the flow of thought and never bestow upon me the sin of writer’s block, and word block and thought block and block block. AMEN!
And when your prayer is heard
Only then will you become
The “poet” 
Never will the words seduce you so that you can’t bear to write
Never will the loose-leaf run away
Never will you wait years to make the perfect sentence
Because you are the poet
You are one of us
AMEN!