PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

In dank dark closets

There are a thousand dancing skeletons

waiting to be let loose

Whispered into desperate waxy ears

There are mysterious untold secrets

waiting to be heard

I am

Too boisterous to be

Kept

I don’t want to be

A bone that has to fall out

Of the crack of your closet

When the door is partially opened

I don’t want to be

The thin air or hollow tunnel

That a secret must travel unnoticed through

I do not want to be like

Some concrete sequential’s

Office desk or quaint casa

Kept

I want to be free as the wind that propels

The petals of a disconnected flower

I want to be that streak of fluorescent green

That causes you to

Shield your eyes when it flashes before you

I want to be the beat of the bass

That takes over for a moment

The same way a respirator does

I do not care to be second place

In your race

If you cannot speak my name

In front of

Or in the presence of

Certains

Or

Particulars

If you cannot

Open wide the closet

And

Refrain from placing loose lips

At the beginning of an intoxicated eardrum

If you cannot present me like paperwork proudly all over your desk

If you cannot blow me into the freshness of the day

And

Wear me bright as the sun not needing to be shaded

If you do not allow yourself to feel

The pounding of my presence

Or assist me to first place status

If you do not

shout me out

Around certains and particulars

Then

I must not be

Then I must not be

Anything but a

Figment

Of your imagination

Then

I must not mean

Then I must not mean

Anything to you

Really.