I was never taught how to appreciate poetry
I was birthed on the periphery of unknown space
Lost, with stars as a guide — crash landed on earth
— Because why the hell not.
I had heard whispers — that the planet is an ongoing party.
That it’s where you come when you’re low on thrill and inspiration.
…. I had to see for myself.
I was surprised — disappointed —
— That this planet is as much as it gets
For those that choose to call it home.
I decided to speak — communicate — most could hear the sounds
But few came close to understanding what I was saying,
How could they? All they heard was the anonymous DJ pumping the music.
I lost all hope — perhaps I chose the wrong place to make my landing.
If there was ever a wholesome party here… It’s been dead.
“Not really” said poetry, lulling me to the dance floor
“You have yet to talk to me”
Words with a voice so androgynous —
— so fiercely braided with the mystic — enchanting —
An alien cadence with limitless charge for my neurochemistry
I found my first love in poetry — that’s why I stayed.
Poetry. The primary to this polyamory
The everything that makes everyone an easy secondary.
Our conversation, from that day,
Has long since turned into an iron-clad declaration
From then — now — till a point in time when reptilian brains stop observing …
The day when your vision turns black and you have no idea what just happened
When you have made yourself at home in the primordial chaos.
Swaying with ethereal spirits among the stars
Choosing where to mark your next destination
Whatever you do — don’t believe the rumors tossed by the intergalactic community
Earth is an okay party …nothing too special
The equivalent of Poyais in the Milky Way Galaxy
The essence of it’s beating heart and value stemming from the creatives.
There are far too many places to choose from
Other places I could have easily gone
But I just had to see what all the fuss is about.
Consider my FOMO cured
When you get another chance
… Try not to pick the same party twice.
– O.D. ©2021
Art by: robrey