Your Afternoon Escape
You are not the weaker vessel but I am a potter, I consider you my clay. I am a different type of molder, the kind who uses words and changes into a vacuum when everything else metamorphoses into the colder or milder. Our existence and its EXISTENCE don’t equate disaster; our blood is boiling.
Your heart is getting hotter. What is global warming? Climatologists have started to get stressed ever since the weather goes from Fairer to Unpaired! But poets believe in this endeavor.
I am skilled and pretty good at [what you call] this craft; lyricists believe in my pottery. Potters believe in my poetry. Politicians may end up abhorring
Yet I only have me since this poet’s pen is peculiar and holy.
Dear weaker vessel, you are indeed dear to me. A testimony isn’t just verbal but also in-words! I am this skilled Artist, look at what is lovely,
Be stronger than any strong hold, Be!
I see you walking on oceans and seas. Your beauty allows the blind to say, “I see.” Four lyricists believe in my pottery.
Plusieurs (many) potters believe in my poetry. But I am a potter of Words. Word!
6:31PM © Christian D. Koumtog