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I am poetry

I am poetry a nightingale stringing blues Of medieval lyrics---swords sliding bows. lyrics whose broken tones, can't be rewritten, of blood feud my smiles shines thru the brightness of the sun, the sudden rain beating old California to dance an architect of my words I cut, I saw , I bridge, I gap I measure To befit, it feet on it golden lines You call rhymes, verse, metre and rhythms I am Poetry, a cook of delicacy, with my words As ingredients, source, vegetables, aroma Seasoning, pastries, salt, to savour you sweet. Imaginary mental sensational picturesque I am Poetry, a tailor with a running machine Weaving threads, jumping needles, cutting ' n' sawing, knitting baby's cap as a song of Lullabies, measuring tapes, running stitches Slashing scissors, buckling pins as words I am Poetry, a teacher of rhymes ' n' blues with white running on black walls chopped a Mahogany tree for a plywood With red and blue inks exchanging greeting I am Poetry fitting my words, big or small vocabulary, smoothening the journey of you Memories, from far, through tunnels I pace through from wide, Some narrow, some shallow Some painful, some intriguing, some coarse Some vanishing, some skywalk, some catwalk Some musings, velvety, opaque, transient, extinction I a m p o e t r y wind, that touch the palms of leaves, to sooth their skins breathing a heavy sigh of relief I am the tender breeze that scent memories And smell of ages I am poetry, my tongue flows streams Of tasteful rhymes, the rhythm in your jazz, pop and Calypso I am poetry a mic with a toasted wire Connecting it source from the everlasting Flow of waves, that waterfalls rocks and Pebbles, hitting against the tides of times and seasons Am in your neural cubicle In tuning your brain to string rare melodies Caress your spine, beautifying your innate poetic mind I am P o e t ry (link 2 video)

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