#wordpoem
When I was kid,
I’d look up at the sky and wave
At the airplanes passing by,
I’d wave down from an airplane
Hung up high,
I’d wave and think myself seen.
I remember being seven years old and
The hot air balloon operator said
To keep all limbs inside the vehicle
And my parents kept nudging me to the middle–
Safe and nested.
But I didn’t stay there for long, no
I pushed out to the edge, on tiptoes to
Look down at the great big
Everything.
Only half the thrill is fear of falling.
The rest is how it feels to float.
Jun 15, 2025
Jun 15, 2025 at 6:03 PM UTC
The metaphor is the most powerful weapon at a poets fingertips
Besides the pen it is what gives life and meaning to the words
It is our fingerprint
It is our double edged sword
It gouges into meaning and extracts the bare minimum
Then it coils around it like a serpent
And squeezes the life from it onto our paper
Behold! The magic of the pen
Dec 31, 2015
Dec 31, 2015 at 8:49 PM UTC