Black Poetry : The birth of poetry

asimplepoet

Well-Known Member
REGISTERED MEMBER
Mar 13, 2006
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Somewhere between paradise and diaster
Occupation
Teacher
The words are straining to be birth
And their intensity increase my girth
They don't understand gestation
They long for instaneous manifestion

Oh my God I think my water just broke
And trying to hold back the flow is a joke
Not even close to my appointed time or due date
But poetry won't be confined to anyone's dictate

It wants to come out right now, this very hour
Its head breaks through the canal with power
Oh no there is no holding it back any more
For its body is flowing through my core

Poetry is born on it own sweet time
It does not need a reason for the rhyme
I cannot force it or coerce it to come
It only comes when it feels welcome

Oh how I love my sweet baby, POETRY​
 

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