Breathe (Inspired by the LTAB poetry competition)
In order to write a poem
Sufficient enough for personal satisfaction,
Adam said... "Poet, breathe, now."
Breathe because
"Your piece might depend on piece",
For those who study pieces that change their
Perspective on poetry,
Like me, see,
I grew up with literary phrases spitting out my mouth
Like balls of fire,
To explode on diary pages
But my words weren't louder than anyone, or anything,
They were silent, but deadly.
And if growing up I couldn't inhale and exhale,
Well, I never learned to breathe,
And if I never learned to breathe I could never
Speak my pieces that depended on my peace,
Internally
My lungs were left like clenched closed fists because
I spent years putting words onto paper
And never putting words into my mouth,
Until the first time I stepped on a slam stage,
And carved my heart out
To an audience who were strictly strangers.
But this crowd deemed different than the people of my peers,
But were people who poured poetry into their bloodstream,
Which meant we all shared the same bloodtype, see
They understood that
Our words played stars that orbited around solar systems of stanzas,
Faster than the speed of light,
To inflict your heart, and send shivers down your spine
That if you ever need oxygen to fuel your fire,
Never breathe in, but breathe out
That on this stage
If you never have the nerve to say who you are,
Then you are who you say,
That words cling to insecurities to create masterpieces
And monogamous marriages between you and your mic,
To speak now, or forever hold your piece
That these words won't take no for an answer,
Growing tumors tremendously in your cheeks
To be spit out, like vocabulary cancer
That we are each
Intelectually insane scholars painting out idiosyncrasies
Identifying our imperfections
To reach out and tell at least one poet:
"You aren't alone in what you feel."
Words act like patrons giving you something to lean on
When you're all by yourself on that stage...
When our analytical art is only seen through
Narrow set sights,
Words give us courage to crack closed minded cold stares back
That have the nerve to say,
"Man, poetry is wack",
Well those who matter don't mind too much
Kids who leave their souls on a stage
To be stabbed with a swift decimal number or two,
So when it seems judges won't "listen to the poem",
Your audience always listens to you.
Snapping up support for your respitory system
So that you can take one last breath...
Or learn how to take your first.
See now, Adam said that,
"Everybody's got something to say about poetry".
Well breathe now, poet,
And you'll see that
Words have something to say about
You, too.