Jay loves poetry, but doesn’t write enough of it these days. He dose sing lyrics, and occasionally writes, but rarely ever performs poetry.
Here is a Heart Pome:
Blood flows, pumps, pushes and grows in pressure.
Every beat expands in my chest with waves of energy up into my neck and brain. Pain dwells, maybe eases to the mystery of why I am still alive, as my heart beats have battled more than a million beats in a balance of death at every turn.
With breath and air the pressure grows, busting onto my stomach and down my torso the beats throb with life and delicacy.
I experience elation, adrenaline kicks in, I lay down, or stand up...
I’m alive, like a tiger running for the kill, but I’m by myself, sitting, dragging, watching TV.
With each beat life goes on in infinity, where I’m gone, and so it will.
I am a poet.