Taste
It appears to be
that love of poem and poetry
is a matter of feeling, emotional tasted grocery.
What tempts the pallet today
may tomorrow cause dismay
though writing in imagery at play.
All that we write and express
is more of heartbeat's guess
and our soul in undress.
Comes the intense release to words
heartache and joy easily heard
embraced by read and written stirs.
Listen, hear it quiet and loud,
the voices of once silent crowds
released from their self made shrouds.
What is that crunch
a mere revelation of some inner touch
hidden messages, not so much.
Express yourself some once sang
divulge your inner inhibitions to the gang
shared open handed writes of individual yin and yang.
I seem to lean toward three line poems of late
anyone know what category I should take?
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