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Poem

I saw a beauty what no man, nor
Women dare to describe, I have seen
The outline of the universe it is ever
Changing, shape, nature, texture,
Faces, horror, beauty, hope, salvation
And or despair. I heard these as well, 
Words that were mere words became
The epitome of their definition and
Deafening were their sounds. I was
Transfixed, appalled, taken aback 
Slightly then forward to the point I felt
Insane. Yet I dare not scream for it,
Seems, I wished to remain sane. The 
Rhyming yet a mechanism not before
Seen, un-rhyming beginning to
Finishing, of this, which I am rhyming
And, yet, not even making sense.
And that is what the universe is, it
Makes sense then it doesn’t, then 
Again at the same, time then
Different but same. Yes I know
Insane may it seem, but logically it is
Sane, to the insane, all in the same.
Some might wonder and others say
They ponder, is this beauty or
Mockery of poetry or innovative in
The sense this is the scene of all
Scenes, for poetry in wave. For stave
An, in ocean one in name now dry
But may of today come back in
Waves… of new found flow of power.
For it is as to say innovative yet 
Repetitive so share May I say, even
Declare of what I say, this is poetry
Old and new so share I implore,
Shakespeare’s death should not
Have been priceless, talent should
Not be unfound in which it is
Penniless… in a crest in all of us.
Make me famous not by fame but by
Word, word of mouth like how
Emotions bundled all in, try to fit in,
One, word, out of mouth to describe,
What you feel. And that is poetry, it
Is, the universe repetitive in its un-
Expectancy of the , expectancy.

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