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Libby Marshall

The Non Poet


The Non Poet

You don't 'write' poetry,

It writes you

pencils, pens and playlists

There's no formula.

You fight because you know

It's not enough

It never is

You sit there on the bed

Or on a train

In a place

With a seat

You cannot stand and write poetry

Your knees get weak

and fingers can't move fast enough

The rhythm is off

A distracting cough

Stop!

It's there inside everyone

You pour yourself into this dead tree

Feel the life leave

Your chest is heavy, heave.

Watch as the youths text their version

of poetry.

For people who have passed on, like a con

Did you ever care?

Try to link up the stanzas

Try to 'structure'

What is messy and raw

and completely me

If it wasn't for he

This wouldn't have happened.

For that I am grateful

Even if he drinks dead grapes too full

Eyes dilated

Aface I cannot recognise

I understand the lead that comes

from my fingertips

are shaking

and trembling

With every truth I write.

A drama teen

I may be

But perhaps is the same maybe

That led you here.

You don't 'write' poetry

You live it

It frees that wretched hate

Changes your dismal fate

You don't 'write' poetry

It writes you.

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