I have many states of being

Most of them conditioned

Circumstantial ways I am

Depending on my position

If I’m on top I am a certain way

If on the bottom I’m another

Each one relative to what’s going on

Which determines how I’m covered

But when I am in poetry mode

I’m not circumstantially dependent

I enter into a different realm

Where I am consciously transcendent

There’s no thing as linearity

Removing the cause of the effect

For when life turns into poetry

All frames of reference intersect

At the point of their convergence

We find the poem’s entrance into time

Emerging out of no where

Thus impossible to confine

Always open to interpreting

It’s expression has no end

And as the author I am one with it

So who can say where I begin

Perhaps the poetry created me

To bring itself to form

Pre-existing my corporeal self

A possibility outside the norm

Now I’m not just a person being

But an event within creation

Composed of seen and unseen forces

Forming a poetic destination

I’m not encountered but attended

Participation is a must

If you ever want to know me

Before I turn back into dust

For when I’m not in poetry mode

I am a man devoid of being

Processes functioning mechanically

With eyes that have no seeing

Here to do until I’m done

Trying to get my tasks complete

My meaning and my function one

Until I’m considered obsolete

Then I am replaced

With a newer model off the shelf

That’s why a life without being poetry

Is like living without a self

© Copyright 2015 Pedro S. Silva II