Poetry is Emotion Incarnate
Poetry is emotion incarnate,
I am emotion incarnate.
My first encounter showed me my expression ,
Human expression clear to the soul.
Showed me the way to cry.
I hadn’t known the way in a long time.
I felt a twinge of pain in my heart,
Threatening to fall apart.
I mend it with words, each and every day,
the words of a book mixed with the words of my brain.
A cocktail of chemicals inflicts pure acid on the paper;
Disintegrated it falls apart,
Just like my heart
The other day.
A chemist, I mix the cocktail over and over,
spill it on the paper ‘till I feel it no longer;
Archived, it decays.
My words I rearrange and I await the day
that my heart falls apart,
just like the other day.
Ink and water —
the essence of my being;
poetry provided
An outlet for me.
Poets piece together words from another world
another brain, another whirl
of emotions coat my brains so that I may use my cocktails another day.
Cocktails made of human emotions:
Happiness;
Sadness;
piece together the pieces of my heart,
that broke,
the other day.
That day I cried,
that day I died,
Reborn into the new pig sty that is the world.
My heart is sewn together so I give it another whirl;
Present it to the world on a silver platter
seasoned with acid,
covered in pain;
so that nothing else matters
except that faithful encounter
I had with poetry
the other day.
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