Ars Poetica III: Writes of Passage

“The dreamers are the saviors of the world.”
— James Allen

Write
However you like, just do it
As though you were riding a unicycle
Never letting go of the invisible
Handle you have on the landscape of
Your
Memories & language of your dreams
With eyes wide looking for that
Maiden voyage still inside
You as though tomorrow will never
Show.

Even if it’s just scrupulous scribbles

Write
Obsessed with observant
Tendencies that vers libre tends
To lend to its pupils who
Have risked the poetry of
Participles
Dangling, as words devote
Measures of metaphor
To the rapture of never
Separating life from its
Essence..

Write
‘Til
Your soul is saturated
In the tainted tinges of your
Painted angels
& demons, as though
Extemporaneously
Experienced in the great
Unexpectations of
Life, tuning in to the electric
Music of the muses
Alive 24/7/365, & taking stance
In the artful orgy of your soul’s
Dance…

Write
‘Til your faculties crash, then dream
Yourself a beacon in the world,
Churning an undeniable alchemy of
Prosody until the poem’s an epitaph
Immortal as the scroll of your soul
Only to be awakened by those same
Bearers of dreams still to come….

Even when pandemonium’s
Your only peace of mind

Write
Like poetry were your pottery wheel

Of perpetual ponderings, your
Solitary sustenance of surival
Molded by all of the strangely

Familiar moments trying to stay out
Of art’s way, as today melds meaning
& solders the sonder of serendipitous
Verses, free to be whatever you want

Them
To be–

Write
Like now
Is the truth…..

Write
Like now
Is forever;

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