Ingredients on being a poet for #WorldPoetryDay

not so sure I’m genuine, like a stone

or genuine like suede or leather.

not so sure I’m a poet like Plath

or a wannabe poet. I hope to

inspire then I rage forest fires

in my head. I hate to admit I’m

a poet or a writer at a party,

seems like the music lowers

and the spotlight’s on me

and god help me as I blush

and explain the ingredients in my

words.

I listen and smile while drunk,

and claim to be horrible

at cartwheels, but once upon

a time I  was a dancer in a show

’tis true, once upon a time

I made cocktails for breakfast.

 

The ingredients to being a poet

is simple:

-1 ounce of vodka, ice.

or

-1 shot of Jack Honey (or half the bottle in my case).

a pen

paper

silence

and add some spice (chili for heat)

salt for the demons

pepper for the earth angels

dig deep for the money

there are holes in all my pockets

poetry does not sell

but my soul

is up for grabs.

9.99 a pop.

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