deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Incidental Poet
what moves the quill?
life itself
the trials..the tribulations
the triumphs
triangulated on a poetic canvass
questioning death
the afterlife....etc etc
so many places to go
but admittedly
everything ain't for show n tell
not for public consumption
no matter how much it consumes
my everyday thoughts
some poems will remain forever un-written..
etched in blood
chiseled in cauterized braille
on a sacrificial heart
but with that said
and set aside
gotta love it
when the mind unlocks the flow
and the pen glides across seamlessly
in cozmik synchronicity
to mental synaptics
translating verbal gymnastics
flippin metaphors into double entendres
hiding deep seated meanings
in plain sight
like playin a covert game of
Where's Waldo
and..although
i'm amazed with the written word
i'm always smitten with
the spoken word
the wit...the wizdom
spit in a spectacular vernacular
maybe one day
i'll be bold [or drunk] enough
to step live on stage
uncage my anxiety issues
let the mockingbird flow through the larynx
rockin words from the heart
and speak the same way i groove
to my House Muzik
like nobody's watchin
and emerge victorious as
the incidental poet
with a seasoned band providing
instrumental expertise
as the soundtrack to my soul
influential to this exercise in faith
this exorcism of fear
experience an incremental
growth in confidence
vibin in a space
where my speech actually matches
the voice in my head
and i can hear the actual acoustics
of my spirit out loud..at last
through clarified consciousness
totally submerged
yet fully aware
ridin a wave of purified energy
unearthed from pen to o-pen mic
akin to a second birth
from the physical to the metaphysical
i become one with myself as
i 'feel' in the blanks and
color myself in my most genuine
shade of poetry
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