I don't have a distinct poetic agenda
And I can never recollect accurately in tranquility.
All I am is a voice, but
I want to be a loud one
-Not seeking inspiration
Under every rock laying unturned
With a cosmic universe throbbing
Patiently under it.
I want to lie awake at night,
Vowing not to sleep until I reach my next goal-
I want to have goals
And not be a dreamless drunk;
I want to fly
And not flutter;
I want my wings to melt,
Over and over again,
Day after day,
Until I can build wings strong enough
To hold the heat of the sun
Inside them, and then propel further.
I am not Icarus. I am not
An aimless butterfly.
I am with direction.