Pitch Poetry

I remember when we were kids
the scents and textures… the fruit trees
groves of guava, mango and mulberry
all the good feelings and sense memories
that I carried with me to help create this new reality…

I guess subconsciously I always knew that I’d be rich
but never thought from invoicing receipts
for work that I did writing scripts for no one niche
until I started charging for each letter, every word, sentence, page and piece

now after every gig – celebratory drinks rooftop on a deck of mahogany and beech
and when the mood is right I might even roll me a leaf
just to reach those heights I couldn’t… with a lift

fruits of labour – sweeter than a brown sugar pinch
and ever since I realised that only I can set the limit
and my mind can break every barrier if I truly want to succeed
I find I have no time to wish, only to think, book binge, put pen to paper
and get ish writ…

so night and day I’m in focus zone as though about to pitch
usually because peers and links beseeched me to do that and this
and if I don’t have a task to complete, I usually have someone to meet
that at times it seems I only get to sleep when I blink
and having developed a habit of not turning off the switch
I continue to polish skills even at bedtime as a form of catharsis
so I don’t end up writing in my dreams…

and as I am writing this
only the night is my witness
and all I desire is to give you something you too can’t resist
something different, but not meaningless
hoping from it you take away something with you at least
for I have no wise words and no long lists…

and all I wish for, is that you also
begin to explore your gift
make the most of it
and never accept defeat!

I think that is all – finished
time for me to get some actual sleep

© Heath Muchena, 2016

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