Monday, November 17, 2008
TRUE PLAYER
I am an Athlete.
My sport…I play words.
I am not static but dynamic...dramatizing the motions of life.
My pen I leap into the air and with my fitness I hold it safely in my fingertips and Swish! It lands on paper and a poem, a story, a symphony spins and turns and concludes with a powerful flourish.
I've got styles...I call them rhythm, rhyme, analysis, logic, creativity, imagery, constant manipulation of words.
A process called...'conscious artistry'
A sport of the senses...no training, no discipline, just brain working. Yet it's an active past-time to play and frolic.
I kick, shoot, bat, bowl, throw, box, dive, run, cycle, ride, drive, skate and even wrestle just to get my words around.
Through my words many I defeat.
From my work, I erase mistakes and put them underneath.
On my court (my paper) with a thought like a buzzer in my head, words drips like ink from one side to the other.
My game I practice day or night, rain or sunshine. i don't whine because it's more like forever playtime, but yes there are times when it's an unacceptable crime.
Always freelancing, no need to chicken out.
Doing my thing, playing my game, even when to others it doesn't count.
True player…
Nifah B.
1 comment:
cool poem... was wondering though why you added (my paper). that took away the fun of the imagery. it was great in the beginning... i got distracted towards the end.
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