Trip On This

How do I explain the words,
That once easily flowed from my mind,
Like flood waters from the Mississippi,
Spilling across my paper,
Faster than I could soak up the intent on what I am trying to say.

How can I show you that my choice of phrases,
Are not just parlor tricks,
presented to you like some cheap literary magician
on Public Broadcast television.
Here for you viewing enjoyment.

How can I describe all the repressed feelings,
I hold buried deep inside,
Just waiting to be uncovered by that next stroke of ink,
Slowly brush stroked,
upon my version of artistic canvas.

How can I speak of past loves lost and found,
To portray the emotional tirade of up and downs,
Leap and bounds, that soar higher than the tallest building,
faster than speeding bullet.
They used to call me superman, you know.

Man, how can you hope to understand my metaphors and similes,
My lyrical symphonies, orchestrated by a mind tormented,
as that of raven speaking to Poe.
Nevermore

Nevermore will I possess the basic instinct to scribe of hurts and misjustice,
Place upon my soul, controlling my thoughts and emotions,
Like a inmate's last night on the Row.
Go head, throw the switch.

Which leads me back to you,
and my original questions of self reflection,
Without my overt deception.
How can I explain these words in any clearer form to you.
It's easy,for you see I am simply this..

A Poet.


enough said..