

Am holding a pen to a note book,
Note that,
i have uncontainable ideas,
so
am hoping it contains enough space to Float in,
See,
I have dreams
dreams screaming to cross over
Dreams so anxious for freedom,
dreams that are soo muscled up
that they refuse to be just passing ideas,
So,often
I find my fingers holding a Pen to a note book,
As i crossbreed words to an essence
that would make Sense,
Often i Write
Of times i am down
of high moments
of when time feels inescapable
i build a time machine,
See,
I come from a tribe of Smith’s
artists who Mould words
into Poetry,
WordSmith
Poet Rays?