Ideas becoming ink for your pen to bleed
Visions seen, held still on once blank pages to be viewed for eternity
A whole life’s experiences boiled down
Like Crack
To powerful words that, once touched by the tongue is nothing less than ecstasy
If spoken able to bring you back to a place and time once known
A time machine for you and your audience to travel in
Time being bent like young bamboo sticks to the whim of the speaker
If spoken traveling through the air targeting the ears of the ignorant like a snipers bullet
Able to hit you square between the eyes
Blindsiding its victim
Stopping in the frontal lobe
It is hear where the bullet is digested
The face goes blank, no expression
Eyes roll back starring at the bullet now lodged in the brain
The person brought back to life to experience it all over again
That is poetry