When letters wait
to pounce on a blank page
when thoughts crowd the mind
like frothing **** in a pond
I keep wondering
what poetry is to me
what poetry is to many

Is it not the language of the heart
with no intervention of gray matter
the unlocking of closed vaults
stirring the embers of love, hurt or pain
or giving a free rein to fancy
and flying on magic carpets
to lands forlorn

Sometimes it is
a glide into a sea of tranquillity
an escape from
the humdrum of the world
a flash of liberation
from assaults of pain
a sedative
to numb the turmoil
a sanctuary
for a burdened heart
a window
to look at the world through
a companion
when one is inconsolably alone
a candle flame
in a darkening world
a cloth line
to hang the ***** laundry
a water lily blooming
in the pool of tears
a shelter
in homelessness

sometimes it is a ladder
to climb up to Heavens
an angel on wings
with tidings of hope
peace in a world
braced for war

Poetry, if you are all these
let us fall at your feet
bless us in our art
may we splurge in fancy
and conjure up worlds from words!

our poems may not be light houses
but could be fireflies
on a starless night!

DRIP
DriP
drip
d
r
i
p
Down the drain.
It falls not from the faucet.
It falls, a crimson rain
From my mouth, my nose.
Clear from my eyes.
Not my fault.
Not my fault.
Not my fault you're unstable.
Not my fault you're angry.
Not my fault you're broken.
Why do you blame me?
Why do you take it out on me?
What did I do?
I've done nothing to you.
I probably deserve it though.
Like I deserved the beatings
At your age and younger.
I probably deserve it.
I deserve pain.
You don't.
Taking it out on me
Will only hurt you more,
But I guess that's just your way
Of dealing with the pain.

I know how you feel.
Judged.
Unloved.
Beaten.
Defeated.
Broken.
More pain than could ever be spoken.
And yet, you don't know.
You don't know that I've had it worse.
That what you feel, that rejection,
It's nothing.
Nothing compared to
Loss.
Abuse.
Being neglected.
Eating disorders.
Internal hate.
Internal demons.
Mental illness.
Being absolutely shattered.
What I've been through.
You wouldn't understand
Yes, I don't play because I grew up too fast.
Trauma does that.
You don't understand because you...
You're lucky.
You have a good childhood.
Appreciate the little things.
You spoiled brat.
You don't understand what I've done.
You don't understand what I continue to do.
You don't understand what I'll always do.
For you.