The Birth of Poets
The land of their umbilical was an antique drawing
An ancient vineyard in a disappeared Far East
A fish curled into a frosty apathy in snow
Having no sense to resist the displeasure of ice
Once upon a time in one’s land not far not near
Pigs ruled men and ate their carcass for lunch
Men became pigs and ate themselves for dinner
And then pain designed poetry into gelatin brains
To conjure feelings in the stitched spines of papers
These ones who suffer a deluge of emotions
Which they see for others to ignore
In grand delusion are birthed as poets.
Jumoke Verissimo is the author of I am memory (Dada Books), and the recently published, The Birth of illusion (Fullpoint). For more info please visit JumokeVerissimo.com.