Poetry was my first love...

Hey guys!

Sorry it's been a while, but I have to scatter some words across this blog today...I read something today that reminded me of where I started...does that ever happen to you? Do you ever walk down the street and get reminded by a smell or a sound, that you are very far from where you started? Sometimes it's a pleasant reminder about how far you've come, how much you've achieved, and sometimes it's like a forever ringing bell that reminds you of all you've lost, and how quickly you let it all go...

I used to read poetry all the time, I used to bathe in the imagery of Langston Hughes, or get up early to go and spend the afternoon in the South bank Poetry library, anticipating what great treasure of words I might find stored up in a dusty, forgotten book...My mind felt open and alive with how beautiful words can be, how language can make all the difference...well today I read something by a young, and it seems profound singer songwriter called Mide Oguns....Check him out on www.midesmusic.com, and don't forget to LIKE his Facebook page...Thank you Mide...enjoy...


Poetry is a gentle bird, with bright and colorful feathers, trapped in the cage of my mind. Occasionally I treat her to Keats or to Pope, sometimes even to Yeats but rarely Poe. I put her on display for the few who pass by but soon enough they protest that I let her loose. They think she might like to fly if given the chance. They mistake me for the cruel master, after arresting my beautiful bird, punishing her with use. They ask me, “Do you know why the caged bird sings?” I reply with a poem about my bird who ever returns to the cage because her love for singing was greater than her love for freedom. They look with pity at my bird because she is inside, I feel sorry for them – captives of the outside. They will never understand; not that the real wonder is that my bird built the cage and calls it home, or that I am the bird and poetry is the cage.