I, Poetress

Cultured poets of sophistication write in cafes, on trains or under a tree

But not me

Poetress of darkness

I am here, alone, in the dead of night, behind the scenes where they can’t see

Just what does writing do for me?

Clever poets of intelligent skill can scribble wonders at will, haphazardly

But not me

Poetress of edginess

I write painstakingly anxiously of unnatural centres of gravity

What saves us all from tragedy?

Creative poets of literature study language and take pride in their royalty

But not me

Poetress of madness

I write from what I think I think and feel, and what I think I see

My lines descend to anarchy

Admirably

I’m not doing poetry in Peterborough

Their search for perfection is too thorough

Elaborately

I write because I don’t know how to write

More accurately, because I don’t know how to win

A fight

Reviews

[Sujash I. Purna]

Orthodox questions that bind the poetic faculties of the mind, often stifle them are a poet's biggest impediment! Here "poetress" gives a chin-up gesture to that unruliness! I really loved it! Good work!
Every line is as sharp as a revolutionary's word of mouth!

[Ezekiel Silver]

I really like this poem!! It reminds me what poetry is meant to do for people. Great work!!!