When the words in the poem have been stolen from our collective souls
And given voice by another
Poetry is
When the deepest of secrets
The secrets we thought no one else knew or could possibly understand
Have been eloquently placed to verse and given to voice or page
Poetry is
When the brush of painted word creates an image in our mind that is uniquely ours but spoken through the tongue of another
Poetry is the missing continuity in the stutter of thought
Poetry is the fire of change that is lit by creative thought and poetic imagery
Poetry is
The barring of our reversible souls
Even if it means showing our ***
Poetry is the appreciation of the simplest of things
Through the recognition of their complexities
Poetry is the rhythm of thought that makes us tap our toes, nod our heads
and laugh out loud without punch line or crowd
Poetry is
IN OTHER WORDS
EXACTLY WHAT I WAS THINKING
And given voice by another
Poetry is
When the deepest of secrets
The secrets we thought no one else knew or could possibly understand
Have been eloquently placed to verse and given to voice or page
Poetry is
When the brush of painted word creates an image in our mind that is uniquely ours but spoken through the tongue of another
Poetry is the missing continuity in the stutter of thought
Poetry is the fire of change that is lit by creative thought and poetic imagery
Poetry is
The barring of our reversible souls
Even if it means showing our ***
Poetry is the appreciation of the simplest of things
Through the recognition of their complexities
Poetry is the rhythm of thought that makes us tap our toes, nod our heads
and laugh out loud without punch line or crowd
Poetry is
IN OTHER WORDS
EXACTLY WHAT I WAS THINKING