Just one.

No need to keep you in suspense,
Because if you are a poetic soul,
A member of the troupe,
You live in suspense,
Wonderment and awe,
Never knowing when from
Your eyes to your mind to your fingers
You birth verse,
You already knew this...

This then is the point,
The point of no return and
Forever forward,
Poet home-grown,
Soul possession,
Slave to words,
The alphabet, your oxygen molecules,
Never knowing the exact moment
A poet was god-sparked within your every pore...

Take your points and pins,
Put them aside for another kind of contest...

Just let the confused children,
Love sick, suicidal, overjoyed, broken hearted,
Sad old men, worried about unknowns
Whose hot breath is flush upon their neck,
All those, all we,
Pained and joyous,
Who inhabit this space, these servers
Write write write write
To our hearts content or discontent...

Each one a hero to me,
I award them one point for living life,
The only point they will ever need,
A badge of verbal courage,
Thru the embrace of their
Works of words,
They are all the everyday heroes of
Poetry.