Poetic pledge

[Poetry is life distilled]

I've often been asked, ‘why don’t you write anymore…’ I pondered and remembered I use to write as a form of outlet, to vent or express emotions that I was unable to verbally share, it helped me through my adolescent years, relationship wars, and simply it was my ART.  Now, instead of my usual act of remaining silent, and letting my pen speak for me ...I now live poetry, its my lifestyle.

[Ink runs from the corners of my mouth.  There is no happiness like mine, I have been eating poetry.]

...it leaves love notes on the refrigerator door, we talk and text, engage in cocktails’, we’ll share stories; even reminisce about some, snap loads of 'random' pictures & create a scrapbook {'cause that’s how memories are made}... enjoy a home-cooked meal to partake in good company and conversation, chill a bottle of wine & open a pack of playing cards... these verses in my poetry refer to my girlfriends because we’re more than chocolate and chit-chat, my brother because we're two.peas.and.a.ipod, those I’ve encountered by chance; or through ‘six degrees of separation’ because they possessed a luminous aura of positivity, my mother because I am HER art and she is mine, & my ‘Mr.’ because whatever our souls are made of his and mine are the same.

[You will find poetry nowhere unless you bring some of it with you.]

I'm extremely [passionate] about EVERYTHING I do - classic O.C.D.  Some may view it as 'quirky', others know it as being endearing, call it what you may, but I have experienced loss, pain, struggle, grief – and fortunately, I've gained strength, courage and the unique ability to cherish... ...I definitely DON'T have the ability to shower a person with the lavishness of material possessions’, or be 'connected' for social soirees’, hell, when encounter those who've reached full ‘friend’ capacity on social_network.com that goes to show I’m an outcast, considering my befriending is a l-o-w numerical figure.  But I’m p r o u d to have the few I share my real  life with, not just the virtual one because computers crash, cell phones don’t always keep you connected…  and certain things just don't mean the same ‘tweet.ed’.  Because over time, through a-l-l-l-l the bullshit one may encounter,  eventually it’s the small things one should be able to reflect on and appreciate - a good laugh with friends, loyalty, [true]Friendship, Respect and Love - these mere words have such great meaning, but shamefully has lost its value over time.

[Poetry is just the evidence of life.  If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash.]