On Poetry & Boundaries

This poem was written in eighth grade, and recently revised. I apologize for the lack of posts recently! I am currently revising my piece “About Tabitha Paine”, which will hopefully be published in an anthology by May. This is a very time consuming process, one that I’ve been putting all of myself into. Enjoy! 


Poetry knows no bounds

In fact, a poet knows no bounds

I will not follow a guideline

The art of restriction wraps  tightly around my shoulders

Leaving lines of purple and markings of maroon

I will color outside the lines

For I do not care if the sky will be blotted white or black or orange or lilac

I will paint a sky of my own, a sky belonging to my mechanisms

think outside of the box

I will not write using a rhyme




I shall not revise my work

my poetry is raw

more raw than a sunflowers roots

a salmon extracted from the raging rapids by means of a grizzly’s jaw

Canines and incisors

my poetry is fresh

fresher than the fruits of spring

fresher than the air encircling a mountains snow spotted cap

My poetry is flesh, of my own and of others

My words personify into sinew and dead skin

I carefully construct letters and arrange them like freckles and constellations on olive stained cheeks

I write with a flow

a flow that will not be constricted by a set of rules

my poetry is a river,

yet unlike a river, it shall shatter the dam of restrictions

Poetry has no bounds

And neither will I


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