in me the maddness of the universe
how do i begin to control
the big bang happens everyday
rippling upon my soul,
there is lightning in my thought
thunder in my sleepless dreams
all the glory of the stars
on my tide the moon does beam,
in my hand the pen
from which the ink so bleeds
of wounds healed to scar
from wanting more than my needs.
richard poor
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-am-poet-2/
