The Spirit of the Heart


I am not a poet
Waiting to be honoured for poetry
Proceeding from the blue river of words
Piled up like skulls in Calvary;
Our world has passion put to sleep
On the same bed with poets made to be
The fuel in the fire of despised love.
Whether of not he is legendary,
A poet is a poet!

I am not a poet
Who's willing to put up any pretense.
Tell the sage that poetry
Is a true definition of nonsense
Needing wise fellows with cunning brains
To fool out of it, a little sense.
And just incase the secret is blown up,
He'll go a thousand miles to make amends.
A poet is a poet!

I am not a poet,
Not when my every poem is a parable;
Not when it's a composition of huge words,
A summarised encyclopedia so unexplainable!
But if you ask me, I'll say flat-out:
"Poems are medicines that aren't acceptable
By the mind, but by the spirit of the heart,
And to these, thoughts must be expressible!"
A poet is poet!

I am not a poet
If this wasn't the world I thought I met
When I was born into a thinking life of nights.
And "thoughts" isn't the only possession of an introvert.
It now seems the only reason for man's existence
Is to perceive a suffering world of words poets create!
Hence I refuse to believe that the poet is intelligent,
But in all truism, that the intelligent is the poet.
A poet is a poet!

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem



This Poems Story

This poem reveals the secret behind poetry writing!