Thursday, May 26, 2011

My Write

Someone had the nerve to label my writing and my poetry as a hobby, I rudely had to correct them...No this is my passion, my life, my breath of fresh air...So I wrote a piece to reflect my feelings on that

My artistic gift is not an interest, there is no bank to deposit this ink I thrust with my heart's mystic must
A must so funky, Pepe Le Pew's body's fragrance beomes fouled as a flagrant to the ill scents of my un deodorized inspiration
This here, is no pulsatic sensation that flows with the wave of the current
No temporary dish being experimented with, brewing and stewing and test stirring
A scrapbook is a fukkin hobby, my words written or spoken dont market campaign lobbies
No surge in this outlet can trip or break this power to rob me of the sparks that generate this heat
These thoughts that leap from mind, that seap from soul/spirit/heart divide, are the molecules of oxygen that permit me to breathe
God gave you and I the breath of life
God gave me the gift to write
God gave me the need to write
God gave me the ooze to write
My pen never gave me the snooze blues to stop the write clock
My write clock writes continuously, to right my write
I write to right my wrongs
I write to right my rights
I write to write to right
I write to to express my rights and yours
I write to open ajar your closed intellectual doors
I write to stuff the smores of the generic grahams of cracked perspectives your lack of enlightenment smoothes
I write to fill the intellectually empty grooves of the fools of provoking thoughts
I write to fufill the cravings of the fufillment your jig jag puzzle pieces sought
I write for the battles lost in undeclared wars that you fought
I write for you, I write for me, I write for him, I write for she
I write with keys to unlock and free
I write what you cant put together and piece
I write to answer your unaswered pleas
I write what you seek in dark closets on bended knees
I write to relieve needs and gauze protect wounds that bleed
I write so that I can breathe, and you can release as you read
My write is the definition of me
My write is the medicinal supply to my grieve
My write is every emotions epitome
My write is every personality come to life that lacked persona from person
My write is the feast to your famine, your hydration to your thirsting
The cease fire to your bomb bursting
The compass to your wild searching
The shade to your stripped curtain
My write is the jerking of my clever flirting to clarify and distribute its disbursement
THIS, what I do, is no mere phase blurting
THIS, right here, is my life's destined working

2 comments:

  1. You know I love your writing! This one expresses exactly how I feel about writing.

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  2. Wait, you write babes? I didn't know that...would love to read some of your work...where can I spot it? And thank you so much for taking the time to read and appreciate my art, I really do appreciate your support.

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