As I stood in the spring of my youth,
when words flew at me like humming birds,
an influx of language from alien places
got inside my bones sealed tight,
summoning me to pay close attention
like a train whistle or a siren,
a fist knocking at the door, a voice from
a courier from a yonder place
I don’t know, an island, a paradise,
a hell, a crypt, a house of pleasure,
an ancient writing on the wall of a cave
transmitted into the future,
pounding into my cluttered mind,
my self of indifference and rebellion,
stuffed in my closet and forgotten,
the cornerstone of the house of my future,
a part of me that floated downstream
and emptied into a sea called the abyss.
 
As my future came to me,
to my shallow eyes and disbelief,
a disregarded truth that makes me move,
that relies on prudence and memory,
of words that go with the flow,
riding upon the tip of my tongue,
a poet in quest of that one word
buried in the catacombs of the mind,
a casual search that became a desperation
for the light that illuminated the pathway
that poets walk upon,
that flickered out in the days of yore,
stuffed in the closet of my mind.
 
Some came back to me slowly
in my deepest meditations,
my supplications, my spiritual newness,
my begging for mercy,
my self awareness, my repentance,
and my testimony to how foolish I was.

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Robert L. Martin
5 months

Thanx Cory. I love getting your feedback. I wish I could go back and know what's ahead in the future.

Cory Garcia
5 months

Amazing!

Mana offered up as breadcrumbs to entice future travelers or perhaps future travels of your own.

You are an amazing talent brother poet!

Robert L. Martin
5 months

That sure would be the day alright. Maybe I can transport myself back to those times.

Robert L. Martin
5 months

Thanx Nelson. I didn't even learn the words at the beginning. I was too busy looking at the girls. If I only knew I was going to be a poet, things would have been much easier. I wish I could be transported back into the past.That would fix it.

Nelson D Reyes
Nelson D Reyes
5 months

Totally relate.

One way of fixing it is to be totally crazy like kid-happy in a candy store,
imagination gone wild! Words falling down from the tree at the slightest whisper of the breeze. That would be the day wouldn’t it?

Nelson D Reyes
5 months

Beautiful. I loved it.

Sometimes I wonder how I can sit down or lie down and summon the words writing a haiku or a long prose /poetry when at the same time my recall of names of places, things, people I had known very well in the past has failed me many a time. And I tend to forget the thing I needed from the other room as soon as I walk in the room.

I had scratched my head to baldness! (:—))

Thanks Robert.

And yes, good old Webster is a good friend of all poets. Thank God for him.

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