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I sleep Poetry

Last night I wrestled with poetry
As if a lion wrestling with its prey

I sleep poetry
I dream poetry

I walk poetry on thin line ropes
binding together steeply slopes
I make love to poetry like a new catch
On heat waiting to be let loose from its latch

So out of ten if I am bad, take a pen
And give me a score of five or a four
I constantly make love to poetry
With dramatic grammatical metaphors

The root of my poetic hunger
Is I starve myself a bit longer
In sleep I twiddle my poetic lines
Sharpen them to be as fine as a riddle

I sleep poetry
I drink poetry
Not just to quench my thirst
But to differentiate amongst
Good, Better and Best

There shall come the day
I have to say
When I will definitely call it a truce
When I have run out of poetic juice

2006 - Sylvia Chidi

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