Where was I then?

Always,
not where I should've been

Maybe entangled in some other project or endeavor?

Not there yet?

No,

still, not there

Regret was always there though. Hiding in the shadows of my genome like a cancer

Flaring up like an infection
reminding me that until
I am, "there"
I am not worthy of  happiness,
"here"

Sometimes inspiration is free
Other-times it costs you the world
In our abandon we seek
Divinity, eternity
And often the meaning
Of our words
Eludes even us
Are we an author?
A seeker?
A valiant warrior
Braving the darkness
Seeking for such elusiveness
It sets the mind free
Within that darkness
Lies the eternal
A place without form
A castle, a dungeon
And for the unwise
A prison without end
And only those
Well acquainted
With their own madness
May tread its murky waters
To pluck that fruit
Whose shape is an omnipresent
Kaleidoscope of meanings
And to solidify its form
And cast it onto sprawling page
This is our work
Our bottomless pit
Our greatest weakness
And our ultimate triumph.

-----

Reformatted version:

Sometimes inspiration is free
other-times it costs you the world
In our abandon we seek
Divinity, eternity
And often the meaning of our words
eludes even us
Are we an author?
A seeker?
A valiant warrior braving the darkness
seeking for such elusiveness
It sets the mind free
within that darkness lies the eternal
a place without form
a castle, a dungeon
and for the unwise, a prison without end
And only those well acquainted
with their own madness
may tread its murky waters
To pluck that fruit
whose shape is an omnipresent kaleidoscope of meanings
and to solidify its form
and cast it onto sprawling page
This is our work
our bottomless pit
our greatest weakness
and our ultimate triumph.

In the deep corners of 3am,
I find her.

I woke up with a start,
Neither my sleep was completed,
Nor my dreams were realized.
Time said only if had some patience,
Patience said only if I had some time.
4/6/2021

Poetry has no
ability to judge me
so I open up

In a world with
pain sorrow suffering
grief corruption mourning
angst yearning loving fighting,
where are the poets who bring us
joy through their delightful writings?