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Friday, 25 November 2011



If I heard that poetry was dead
I'll cut my head so I'll live instead.
I'll do the impossible
Because truth is not plausible
And everything I do will be free
Not forcible...

If you look long
And deep enough
You'll realize that everyone is a poet
I am a poet
You are a poet;
We are all poets.
But it is locked up,
Down here (the mind)
And up here (the heart).

The poem:
After a few hours later,I am back free-styling
With the free powers of poetry
Potent enough to raise the dead from the cemetery.
Words unexpressed within you are dead;
Heart, brain, lungs, liver.
As I count how many times
You try to say the unsaid
On my fingers and toes
Keeping track of it in my head.
You show how powerless you are
Until I see your lips begin to quiver
Because the words within you are so hot like lava
That makes your soul shiver.
Oh mama,like a mother in labour
You begin to deliver words which cut up your mouth
And heals you back.
But you're so torn up and you seem stressed
And so I sow you up like a seamstress
With truth as my needle and honesty as my thread.
Use the free powers of poetry
Because words unexpressed within you are dead
Until you give them life with your lip.
Be the captain of your life
And please...don't abandon ship.
Read...write...and let the pages flip

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