From my observations
the poets language
leans towards
repetitions.

Poems are a colourful
diversity
of syllabic phonems
****** in a virtual permanency  
An Ink dried up; drifting away
un-catchable in the totality.

The mean-ing-ness!

Wisdom wandering around
the hot *** of poetry's
boiling brew.

The Talent is an attractor
Turning Disharmonious to the
Love Beat.
A Credo from the misty monsoons and the full moon's
                                   'la lingua pool'
borrowed, beaten,
chewed and eaten.
Some would say: "Some
words you could just eat!"
They're so sweet~To the beat. . .!

Poets love certain
words whether
they are good or not.

Words or them!

The words:
whimiscal
lame
green
vigorous
transcendental
blackness
blue sea **** love
Honeysuckles
To be.
I see. . .