A Poet

Just stop, she said, just stop

stop thinking in such poetic terms and making

everything around you beautiful when

it could be so simple.

It’s not beautiful, I butt in, it's

a vessel for emotions and ideas,

it's the three syllables that matter,

the sound that resonates.

It’s the sweet, tart juice of a fruit, even if

apples are a sin. Thank God for equalization,

freedom to write, express, relate, tell, speak…

Just stop making

everything so difficult, surreal, poetic.

because reading between lines is too hard,

analyzing too difficult, thesaurus too small.

A poet, I chime, thought fisher,

imagination runner, soul seeker, mind blower,

day dreamer, concealed smiler, time turner

stanza writer, image drawer,

turning sunsets to kaleidoscope cerise,

leaves falling becomes trees undressing nude,

shooting stars are now blasts of light we wish

were purely synthetic,

Do you want that from me?

why, to be mere synthetic, fake, plastic,

stop being—hesitation, pause.

I can't. I can't. I'm a poet.

I am a poet.