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He’s no musician.
He doesn't make melodies through violin and guitar strings.
Yet he composed, haunting ballads in dramatic tempos,
Rhyming every lyric,
Harmonizing, making it dance in a musical euphony.

He’s no seamster.
Yet he cuts and he traces,
plain words and printed phrases;
Then he sews and he weaves it skilfully,
into a lovely concrete poetry.

He’s no painter.
He just has a palette of pigmented letters,
splashing colorful lines on his blank canvass.
A blast of contained evocative memories,
Streaking and shading mixtures of kaleidoscopic imagery.

He’s no storyteller.
Yet from him, I heard the most romantic tales-
One, of the moon and its lover sea.
Reciprocating shy glances, whispering I love you’s,
while kissing behind the sprawling mountains.
Though the dawn will come, they do not fear.
For after the majestic tribal sun leaves his stage,
There’ll the lovers be once again reunited.

He's no poet.**
Yet he writes--
stanzas and verses.
And oh! it revives,
every strand of emotion,
every sense of intuition,
Inside me.
A lyrical perception,
Sheer perfection,
Arousing perpetual reactions,
From me.
I am not good at this. I just want to express my pure gratitude, appreciation and awe for you.

"I am no poet. Never thought of myself as one. Just a guy dabbling clumsily in words"
Yet even, everything you do amaze me.


Thank you all wonderful people on Hello Poetry. I just realized this moment that this poem was featured as Daily poem yesterday.  I have never imagined any of my work will be posted as daily. Thank you all for the hearts, re-post,share, comments and messages. You really made my heart and soul so happy. :)
And most of all, thanks to the man who inspire me to write this one. :)
(04.14.2015)
 Apr 2015 C J Baxter
Mike Essig
No one
is more
qualified
than you
to decide
what
your life
will be.

Don't fight
the power;
be
the power.

On the subject
of you, you are
the only expert
you will ever
really need.

~mce
You haven't even heard my name,
Haven't even shaken my hand,
And already you're running from me,
Seeking to find "stable, safer land,"
Certain I'm wrong about everything,
A lout, a fool, a vagabond, filthy man.
The ignorant. Gotta love them! I've heard that hermits are in great numbers as of late-for some reason I guess...
You can not grasp the concepts I speak,
I accept gay people for who they are,
You hold on to your dreams and weep,
Then shop the avenue with tacky stores,
You are the one who breaks into song
When there was a villain who died,
You are always there ready to go to war,
Blank faced death as you boldly stride,
You were a pillow that I would lay my
Head on, now I run from you for my life,
You were a rainbow I had wished upon,
Now there is nothing but shame all the time.

*I was the one who had a childhood to explore and dream,
Now if I am not eternally busy, work restless 8 hour days,
I fall upon my sofa and knock out after I get home,
Finally find a little time and space, there you are
To tell me I'm nothing but a complete waste,
For I'll never work out in this world until I have
Lived up to becoming a slaved out tool for money's pay.
Perhaps on the outside I seem like a disgrace, but in truth
More like a dog who never learned the tricks of the trade.
I have a page on youtube with my piano music, to hear my songs that go with my poetry please visit: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL9tz9OI2eSLs9WxEY3gh_QfSn20GopR2U
My life's diary
is not being written
just by me
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