The Poet’s Pause

It would seem my life's work requires real-time attention. I need not write for a while in this current dimension, my work in real time is more demanding than my poetry.

Not such a bad thing. I mean, one guy from London's other side recognised this poetic guy, enough to stop and remind me of the impact I left that day. And yet I still acted shy.

The truth is:

I have 4 books, 2 mixtapes, and all links in my bio. I've got infinite flow and will continue to go.

I'm historically relevant, up to date, and my works still impact new readers' presence.

I am forever a poet, and people let me know it. A breath of fresh air from my mundane, but not writing adds more reading to the game.

As I said, my posts up to this one will always be new to someone.

Like Batman…

I'm the poet the people deserve, but not the one they need right now.

As I write now, I am grateful for the small crowd, the ones that observed the most, appreciated my muse and poetic notes.

And I love those who connected to my notes. Your words kept me going when I thought time was froze.

So this is my out for now, not forever. To my poetic muse, I will stay tethered. Keep writing like an old writer with a feather.

Until then, let my previous poems project prophetic pictures, and see you loving your scriptures.

I'll be back when the leaves turn — or after the clocks fall back. Same voice. Same pen. Just a little more lived-in. Until then, the archives are open. And so am I… just in a different way.