What is this thing called poetry?
Is it depictions...
Of vignettes connected.
Bridged between something said profound.
Recited as a sonnet...
With emotions sat upon it.
Exciting enough to be passed around?

Many try to describe poetry,
With an intellect approach...
Hoping to dull
Diverse interpretations,
With meters, tempo, rhyme
And lines counted!
Learned by rote and blurted.
Regurgitated from memory!

Can true poetry be defined without rhyme?
Can thoughts unconnected but colorized,
And flavored to moisten
Be the choice...
Of those who prefer their poetry moist?
Even though uncomprehending,
The meaning or intention of clues planted.
Seeded by the writer
Delighted to tease with mystery, sex
Or emotional pain aimed at the reader!

Can true poetry be defined,
As heartfelt expressions
Written to describe what then
Is in one's mind.

And who is to say there is a correct way
To reveal what one has to say with or without rhyme.
When those times come to pour a flow
That arrives and awaits the rush.
And thrusting that wish to be expressed as is!

What is this?
That has to find,
Poetic lines.
Requested or not!
When all it wants to do,
Is be delivered for what it is!
Searching for an accepted way...
In a style one owns,
Like none other conveys...
And lifted from descriptive restrictions,
To expand the demands of understanding!

Lawrence S. Pertillar

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/lifted-from-descriptive-restrictions/