P-T-R-P: EP 8 The Metaphorest
SERIES: People That R' Poets
This Series will focus on Highlighting Poets from a diverse set of backgrounds to provide a space to showcase their work!
Each Episode will feature a different poet, who will curate a short poem as provide a insight about who they are and what inspires their Poetry!
As we move further along this series please do reach out to any poet that you resonate with & their words, for we are all connected through creativity & curiosity.
This space will also aim to provide poets, creatives and artist a opportunity to not just showcase their work but also give readers a greater insight into creative exploration through the chance to learn more about each
Poetic Storyteller.
POET : The Metaphorest
With an amalgamation of classical and contemporary influences his body of work is a catalogue of the early page poetry and the more contemporary styles of spoken word.
A repertoire that showcases elements he now uses to make both these styles crossover and appeal to all audiences.
He has designs to bring something different to the scene and to those outside of poetry. The mission: to tear down the mystique of poetry, and make it open to all through his YouTube and social media platforms…
... ENTER THE M E T AP H O RE S T ...
POEM : AGE
It is in life’s soliloquy, that we arrive at a meaning
Youth is not at all a perspective but a vehicle
Pertaining to change, but a catalyst for wisdom
It is a stage in life where we age in time
Here scraped knees are gaped holes in souls
I find not trouble or strife but a requiem
A repository, to deposit stories of glory and death
In jest we ingest these folk tales like oxtail
Myths of a ninth fox-tail or phoenix feather
Greek fleece or reed that tethers us to heroes
In perilous quests, the adventurers who could be us
As we grow old, we find life not to, not like a fairy
In search of rot tooth or Father Time who clocks you
We are bound to each other and not to time
Age is but a number not of mind and I dare you to say otherwise
It is in life’s soliloquy, that we arrive at a meaning
Youth is not at all a perspective but a vehicle
I find not trouble or strife but a requiem
A repository, to deposit stories of glory and death
In perilous quests, the adventurers who could be us
We are bound to each other and not to time
Age is but a number not of mind and I dare you to say otherwise