Welcome to PoetryAbacus :   an all-in-one passion for poetry

 

Last Update :
Thu, March 31, 2016 7:57 AM

|2010|

The Strange Poet

Of a sort history doesn't predict I have come
With principles rooted in thoughtful stress
An existence built by poetic angels of will, anew
Of finest faith and fabric, and rightful
Or tag me a fully fledged stranger
Wandering in literary streams
To ways poems fathom in fashion
Wantonness of emerging imagined words

Poetry was my teacher and still is
My student energy she deflowered
A duty I have always paid for
And luck brought me
Soaking to understand her
Her institution I dared and read
The inhabitations in our relationship’s meaning she weans
Striping naked every pint of knowledgeable blood in me

A sumptuous breast of the eye
Estranged within wording walls
Beating with my breathing
These feelings I must write
In conventional or unorthodox styles
Classic poets may impose unlike, unruly
I sing the words I felt, inkling truth
The conscious pierce of my bleeding heart