Only you can translate
where you are
on your voyage through
this varied farce
called “life”.

No one else can dictate
to you…
or should even dare…
how to phrase
your feelings,
your thoughts,
your personal moments.

Who is anyone to
cause another to feel
inept or inferior
for wording their
experiences as they will?

We are all both
audience and poet,
consumed by the
powerful spell of words
and meaning
we are bonded
in ink.

It takes gumption
and courage
to give voice to
your vision of
the world.

It often requires
resilience and nerve
to open your heart
and peel back the
layers of skin,
and let others take
a long look at the
inner workings of YOU.

Be brave,
take courage,
let your soul speak
in its very own
language.

People will read
your words and
listen to the sweet
whispers
and thunderous shouts
that flow from pens
and keys
to release the
inner demons and angels
and the lyrical
vines that bloom and live
in our individual
landscapes,

fluidly coursing from
our own rabbit holes
with fortitude and grace
and our neverlands,
where we need never
grow up,

to share with those
that need to see
and hear and feel
and wonder.


-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

My words
Convey
Deepest feelings
From the soul
Revived
With every drop
Of ink
Bridged
Is the chasm
Between me
and blank pages
Crossing over
To dwell
Among the lines
Betwixt
Are the meanings

I am
imprisoned
in consciousness,
searching
for an
escape

My heart is
fragmented
but you fill the
empty spaces

A piece of you
Reflecting back
The bitter words in your mouth
Too raw to speak
A poet is
Someone in pain
And someone in love
Someone who looks at the world
Through a kaleidoscope
Who takes a magnifying glass to each
And every
Word you say
And lets them imprint on their heart
A poet is
A star gazer
A dreamer
A chaser of
The improbable
But hopes anyway
A poet is
Tissue paper skin
A heart of glass
And a soul of titanium

A poet is
A sharp tongue
And a gentle kiss
She is a sob
He is a sigh
A poet is
The sun at midnight
Bright and
Burning
Hot
Alive
But cloaked in a darkness
They cannot shake
The brightest day
And the darkest night
A poet is
The human experience
A paradox
An oxymoron
So complicatedly
Simple

A poet is
A lover
Who refuses
To stop wearing their heart on their sleeve
No matter how much it bleeds
But rolls them up
So you can’t see
The blood stains


A poet
Is Poetry