Poet-aholic

A friend called me a poet-aholic...    
      
They aren’t wrong      
you won’t find any denial here    
Just call me an addict      
and no need to keep it anonymous      
     
I drink up people’s organized words      
like they’re on tap    
sitting on my favorite bar stool    
eagerly waiting      
for my beloved  poetic barkeep      
to poor me another round      
     
Shot after shot    
until my head is spinning with imagery      
and my liver is drowning in metaphors      
Stumbling all over myself      
yet somehow seeing a clearer picture      
and an illuminated path through darkness      
     
Sometimes they come in a tall glass      
allowing me to take my time, and savor      
the flavors in my mind      
Other times, I snort short lines      
of crystallized truisms      
chasing the dragon of a creative surge      
     
I can’t get enough of this intoxicating ink      
I want to mainline it into my veins      
Embracing the high, feeling the rush      
of emotional conjurations followed by      
feelings released      
Providing escape from my realities and    
temporary sedation of pain    
Finding validation in shared experiences      
and gaining insight from fresh perspectives      
     
Itching and scratching for more      
the come down is real, my friends      
needing another quick fix      
I am at the mercy of my benevolent  dealers    
     
So many poets sharing their musings      
serving up wisdom from tattered schematics and broken dreams      
exposing their vulnerabilities for me to behold      
Allowing me the the privilege to lurk      
Respectfully, curiously peering      
Into their hearts    
becoming acquainted with fragments      
of their soul      
Some allowing our demons to entangle, providing a much needed social reprieve      
     
I’m a junky for poetic truths      
that hit close to home      
for the moments you feel connected      
to a random soul      
who is able to articulate what you feel      
better than you      
For those brief moments you’re reminded      
you are not alone in the vastness      
For the poetic lifelines that keep me from drowning in seas of misery      
     
And the moments that shine light    
into my darkened soul      
providing me hope      
and courage to fight on      
giving me the extra bump      
needed to press on      
while the sands of time quickly pass    
     
It’s an addiction that indeed messes      
with your mind      
But instead of taking life it gives animation    
to words and ideas      
The goal is to spread beauty through both      
the light and the dark      
the poet is not here to boast or kill it’s host      
And unlike the hard stuff      
that eats away at your soul over time      
     
poetry feeds mine  
 
CHEERS! May we never come down...