So if you used to come to free verse there is this poet named Dawn. She has been MIA as of late because she is studying to become a firefighter we recently had a convo where she told me she is feeling like she lost her self. So I wrote her a poem to encourage her (even though I haven’t told her yet)
How do you fight the flames– With water poet.Recapture the meaning of your name. Your water is life poet. So flow like the blood in your own veins. Poet don’t you know your dreams and memories are one in the same? Poet to continue is to go from whence you came. Feel no shame at the beckoning of bonfire. You are a bondservant. Your desire is to unchain torrential rains and rescue by subduing heat. Don’t you know that’s where passion meets the road, meets the wind. And if the angels call you home again your flight will never be pen less or wingless. Digress on stage or off page. Is not the current for irrigation raged within the canals, or even in the bowels and vowels of a limitless body. Your words will make you godly. Never mind whether we do, or do not ascend. Barefoot and brazen we will go dancing to the sound of sonnets pounded out by the rhythm in our chests. Press our toes in the dewy earth and howl at the flaxen stars to curse our pain away. We will stay planted there until crystal stairs shatter from the pitch of our voices. Our brows will be moist with the perspiration from the warmth we’ve endured. But we will keep fighting these fires together poet. Scorched by sunsets yet you will rise like the Dawn you are. Carve shimmering melodies in the clouds and drown out the shadows. Be as bizarre as your art begs you to be. Be brave as the secrets that substantiate your shame. But always remember your name. For you are Life Poet. The repeated respiration of ballads and prose. Breathing stanzas into your nose only to exhale rose buds and thorns. Inhaling the scorn of trespasses against you only to produce vitality fused in prose. When all around you have choked on the flames of hell you will extinguish pyre with the fluid in your soul. Because you are a life giver plant the seeds of wisdom. Roll syllabic stress into fine pressed linens to dress your slender form. Our hearts are weathered and worn but we will draw ourselves to the flame and flap our wings with moths blowing away the smoke as a ladle removes dross. You have counted the cost of sacrifice and still you fear not. You know the temperature is Fahrenheit hot and still you will not back down. So I will again resonate the sound of name. Chailyn Kavi breathe in, breathe out poetry.
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