Poetry and personal blog – Spilling my guts to strangers

a poet

i reach in
pull it out
set it on the table

no body armor
no plexiglass
no breastbone

just muscle
and flesh
and words

my heart

presented
displayed
risked
humbled
exulted
demeaned
revealed

it walks
it talks
it breathes
it runs
it plays
it’s sick
it laughs
it loves
it grieves
it dies

personified

it’s arrogant
it’s soft
it’s hard
it’s mine

it’s me
synecdoche

it’s life
a metaphor

a toy
a tool
a scapegoat
an excuse
an example
a ninja
a monster
a virgin
a celibate
a lover

the whore
i pimp
who makes no money

this is my heart
i say

in our manufactured world
please believe
the lie
the truth
the words
the banality
the poetry of it

© Sweepy Jean and Sweepy Jean Explores the (Webby) World, 2013

Comments on: "a poet" (4)

  1. I believe this captures it all — the guts AND the glory. You never fail to amaze with every single poem. Thank you, Adriene.

  2. Thank you, Tamara, for sharing this NaPoWriMo with me both here and at your blog. The encouragement and camaraderie has meant so much. <3

  3. I love this! “The whore I pimp who makes no money…” Isn’t that the truth about our hearts? Thank you for continuing to inspire me!

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