These marvelous mystics
work word magic,
in the realm of poetics.

Waves of sounds penetrate
the mental barriers
my peers have made.

They speak with silver spades,
digging up the beauty and wisdom,
bending, and breaking the light with
the weird wonder of their syllable prisms.

They crack the mental prisons
that embiggen
the cash flow of sexists and bigots.
They expose the spigot
that spews *******,
with chunks and bits
of acid spit and ****.

They turn the darkness
into lighted corners,
take the depression
and hopelessness
that was all consuming
and present you
with a new view.

They assimilate and share
information and inspiration.
With similes and metaphors,
they explore
all avenues to truth.
Though they soar
too close to the sun
they still manage
to bring back that blazing beauty
before their wax wings melt
and they sink into
the history of
salt water words.