Why, Poetry

This is not a poetic lamentation or woe is me diatribe
It is a soul itching, head scratching
Wondering the way wordsmith’s do, about the call to words, ya’ll

It is more or less why, poetry or why poetry
Splitting hairs and splicing sentences around, throwing comma’s about
Like confetti on Fifth Avenue after the parade

And you really do wonder, until you hear the rallying cry for more
Poetry
Hashtag’s come across your screen about the healing
A word was a balm
A sigh of knowing escapes your lips

You want to give a party
Celebrate the genre, kick up your heels and dance
Write the book in poetic prose
Kick the naysayers to the curb
Have you seen the poetry section in Barnes and Noble lately
Point
Counter point
That will rub salt in your, my wound
Think about starting a Kick Starter Campaign

And the world went blooming mad
Spun crazy wild,
And you got really mad
Frozen in fear, but for awhile
You heard people say press on with the passion
Bring on the light
Light up the dark
And all you could do was tap and write and write and tap and pray that beauty was birthed
And that the blasted book that haunts you by day
And by night
And by the way have I told you lately about that dream
You seem to be the first that should know

Why, poetry?
Brilliant choice for everyone but me
Now I am whining about my passion, my love

My poetry
If only for the hastag healing
I will continue to tap away and pray

Oh poetry, you are my cello
And my bass, my blessed curse
My gospel choir and my palette and paints
My novel and my charity
Muse come sit beside me, be the music my fingers long to hear

Poetry, my love
Make me worthy
Of you

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