Whether tiz fare t’middling
or
Excruciatingly Wonderful
simply
beyond rarely drempt dreams
of
what most think possible...

...uhem
L'Life and Poetry
are
Judged Subjectively
so when
a poet of
upcoming note and stick.to.it.tivity
takes his or her work seriously
it being
not
foolhardy
due to
some sort of mental malady
or maybe
quite conversely
another fellow
silly and frivolous
just may be crazy
but
didn't know or
particularly care
yet  
penned a poem plucked from
ethereal air
discovering his creation
making slight on-the-fly alterations  
in front of an audience
say
just on a lark or
where a wild feather was or  
Perhaps he's up there on a dare
I don't know
it happens though
anyway
something of great value was found
within themselves
they didn't know was there
so
However these things happen
steadily over time
or thunderstruck all at once
identity is fundamentally
amended to where
what was once unattainable  
is now unimportant since  
a page was turned
to greater awareness
so now
the poet's words
are
more worthy and valid
for
what was once hidden
is now revealed
only then can
all elements necessary be assembled
from this omnipotent coagulation
to sublime manifestation
A Focus and Fervor of Defined Desires
Is the Poet Stung
with
Purpose and Power
then
applying design to
words verse and rhyme
til when
Time itself
becomes no more
than
a
fraction of an instant
in
Infinity
of Truth and Beauty
so full and rich
Truer and more Beautiful
it lasts forever in just a
fleeting glimpse
continuing to
emptiness
with what?  
nothing?
nothing to grip!
****!!!
you're slipping inexorably into
the vilest of
vile pits
the stench of ignorance
grips your breath
fear and doubt
floating in chunks and clouds
smack into you hard
and harder
the faster you fall
and all is
no more
than
terror and gloom  
that massive splat coming at'cha
will
be your doom
it's wildly impending
sooner than soon
You're not sleeping
All is lost
because
there's
No way out that's not up
from this
the lowest hole you know about
Oh!
You just remembered  
You've been here
it's familiar
remote
dark and far away
the
Most Vile and Disgusting place ever!
And we're here
Caught involuntarily
in the wake of a wave of a
train of thought
to this self-made imposition
of
Boredom
Hopelessness Torture and Rot
to be avoided
Of Course but
here we are
with dispassion
looking at it wondering at
all
the picks and shovels laying around
instantly knowing
escaping permanently was gonna be
certain the second mighty ****** downward
the blade of the shovel
hit something metallic
it was

!! <><><><>!! A Treasure Chest !!<><><><> !!

filled with
The Greatest Treasure in Life Ever
including
a super lightweight, high-tech, full-body
environmentally protective flight suit and
helmet seamlessly
fitted into a Rocket Pack featuring
six individual super way hightech 'n powerful
rockets mounted
on their own 6-servo-motor
articulating navigational vector control arm assembly
for aerial cat-like maneuverability
combined with
Out of This World Acceleration        
Vertical and Horizontal
All Instantly with Grand Facility
at my fingertipped command
through incredibly way advanced
integration and supercomputerized by  
Super Intuitive Control Interface Devices
plus
an elegant locking leather satchel
containing
lots of money and
some other
vital
bank information and passport
and
I wasn't standing
in a deep hole anymore
with fears and doubts
swirling in chunks and clouds above me
clogging
the pathway to anywhere
and everybody in the audience
was much wiser
having traveled
on words poetically
to
the deepest and darkest
most forbidden
most hidden
One of those
just-so-many-sensible-reasons-to-avoid places
only to find
Life's Greatest Treasure was buried there
oh my
and
I couldn't get it published
no matter how many lives changed
so I started thinking
ya know
everybody in the audience is
wiser and better but
I'm the only one with
this
really cool rocket suit
and leather satchel full of money
so
of and relating to
the poet's
Our Own Little World

...uhemm
N'No One Loves
A Poet’s Poem
more than
The Poet who wrote it probably
and
The Poet who wrote it knows it
and
They don’t get **** hurt
when
Publishers **** up
because
It happens
All
The Time