Poemiosis

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Got a secret I wanna tell you

No other soul knows about this

I suffer from an acute Poemiosis

A syndrome I contracted a few years ago

As I sniffed an allergen of the most infectious

Lines ever penned in Poe-history

Early morn, I would unashamedly sit

Tilting my mind at the precipice of madness

Laughing, re-reading lines, conversing

Unabashedly, as I travel home

Caught in a traffic jam, I would

Divide time into doses of poetry

To keep my syndrome

At a steady trot to licensed lunacy

My worried doc once put a stethoscope

Upon my chest, horrified, said,

“Strange, your heart beats

two-way, one shady

the other steady”

Upon which, unsurprised,

I quip,

“Doc, I have two hearts

The real heart pumps blood

My poet’s heart pumps a geyser

Jetting from within human soul

Now you know why”

But why I sit in Poetry Anonymous

I don’t know

Sitting there, confessing

My addiction, this Poemiosis

Good thing is I am better:

Another sweet soul, once stood,

A fireball of metered eyes he glazed

His frame bore the image of soul razed

Depraved, hungered as deep as into the

Bowels of the earth, timbred voice,

A wellspring of the echo of man,

Ricocheting off on the walls of conscience

He stood amidst us, his breast trembled

“Folks,” he started, “I apologize if

I show no remorse. I say let poets

And poetesses be, if my mind

Bore me to uncharted waters

Or got submerged in sand storms

That be me, peg your sorrows

on a tree-branch”

I was not sure who between me and him

Was better but poemiosis stalked us both.

C) Lorot Salem 2011

For a prompt by Poets United Thursday Think Tank #45 Secrets