Whats poetry,
to me,
but a world where doors open
and never close,
as long as your free prose,
keeps going, and as long as their is
ink in the pen, there is steam in the engine
I dont need a month, I appreciate it
but poetry is my vocation
took a vacation, and damn needed it
clear my head, from all the negative feelings
engaged to my beautiful girl, she means the world to me
her and me and poetry, thats all I need
People don’t get me, and thats cool
i know how I sound, maybe I don’t
to keep it down and out, like the sounds
of the speakers, and here i am mute,
but give me a mic, and I mean something again…

give me a pen, and a notebook, give me chalk and a tablet
give me a wall and some spray paint, I’ll get my message across God damnit

so today is April 7th, a week into this poetry month celebration, my birthday,
some vacation…

I know I don’t fit in, but I don’t say a thing, let my words write
down a little truth between periods and questions.
try and not write and pretend there is no pretention….

but I am a poet, been doing this as long as I know, do it for my own self
gives me worth, in a world, where cursed since birth, i was given the gift of words

a gift, I can’t give back, because though I can’t add and subtract, and not good with math
i can write. afterwords what is there?

I’ll keep on writing…I hope you can keep reading…Day 7-