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A poet dies not when he looses the will to live
But when he looses the will to write
THE single clenched fist lifted and ready,
Or the open asking hand held out and waiting.
Choose:
For we meet by one or the other.
Shells wash up on shallow shores
Sure and unashamed

Ancient treasures shed by shadows
The ocean ricochets

Patiently musicians wish
To share imaginations

Champagne fish and visions of the
Starfish constellations

They shout their cache of consciousness
Shivering vibrations

Sugaring the fishermen
With ocean incantations
The only way to guarantee a 100% failure rate is not trying.
 Apr 2015 Caitlin Jesse
2D World
Each day
another person tags along
We say
there's nothing we do wrong
We know
they don't sing their own song
We go
on a journey that's lifelong
Today's society
just follows a crowd
If that's what you wanna be
don't think you'll be proud
How do you expect to win
when you're behind someone else's lead
You might as well put that dream in the bin
you're basically joining the same breed
Take a stand
walk on your own paths
Release yourself from the band
open up your own straths
Make the decision
don't become a borrower
You can see the vision
when you're not a follower
 Apr 2015 Caitlin Jesse
Eiram
Among all the poetry books,
I look for the ones with the cracked binding
And intricate covers
Filled with harrowing sadness and raw emotion
The kind that obliterates the souls purity.
Sparrows blue perching just inches away
from my feet,
I stand and touch the sky-
taking fistful of a white wet cloud in my mouth.
I love how the butterflies weave
a flower crown
and the tall, young man wearing the straw hat
plays his flute
for me.
Pictures of dead people I know
are smiling and are so full of life
hanging on my wall
reminding me
to seize this day,
because it's not cliche,
and it won't come again.

— The End —