Poem Context: Helen Keller said:
“The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched. They must be felt with the heart.”
Inspired by this quote, I've written this poem for a friend who I don't want to lose.
Love me from a distance, for I'm a poet.
Do you feel how I squeeze life into words?
I grasp my soul–
to pour your being into a poem
pick up pieces of my broken life.
I walk alone in desolate tracks, a broken shell.
Hiding the smell of death
I eat my demise for lunch
and pour it into a dish for dinner.
Do you know how I create lyrics for you?
to dance with souls of poets
ignored in life and adored in death.
I starve for rhymes at their graves
and search for meanings buried in me.
Do you know what it is to starve?
to chase a bluebird
with crippled fingers ; and clouds for vision
shimmering feathers dulled to teal smudges.
I cry at night, bowed before my muse’s feet
silent screams ripping the sky.
The ethereal bird laughs and sings
Go enjoy your constipated world.
there is no Helen of Troy in my poisoned life
I walk on the fire.
For paltry sums I signed a contract with Lucifer,
starting with damnation and no “Consummatum est.”
You would be misplaced in my private whirlwind
I don't want to lose you.
So, save your flowers, and come when I'm in grave;
I'll rise up to kiss you.