The pumping won’t cease.
And it pumps.
And it pumps.
A poetic heart races with creative resilience.
Never changing its left cavity’s position.
Pumping artistic elements into her mental stream.
Down towards her fingers, to write was to please.
The page whose emptiness was a catalyst,
Her poetic system was the protagonist.
The pumping resonated in her ears, loud and clear.
A blank page had served her for many years.
She abused it with her metaphorical scribblings
And her blissful, yet sometimes distasteful similes.
Her poetic system brought her life and captivity.
The page desired healing and cherishing
Through the poetic system’s replenishing.
The system developed her poetic being.
Verbs pumped from her arteries,
Nouns from her veins
Adjectives from her vessels, she wrestled.
With catching her breath,
She held the words in her chest.
Fearing she may lose them if her pen rests.
She wouldn’t have it any other way.
She lived to fill the entire blank page.
Who didn’t care too much for her name.
She was just another poet,
With a Poetic System
Joan A. Vargas was born in Bayamon, Puerto Rico and raised in the Bronx, the eldest of three brought great responsibility. Born a Latina, the art of expression was a seed planted at birth and watered by the Bronx. As a Bronx native, she grew fond of her culture and fast-paced lifestyle. After taking a public speaking course, she flourished into a poet. Poetry was her first love, but she was married to writing. Having completed her master’s in Criminal Justice and becoming a mother, she decided it was time to steer away from what was expected of her. She had already fulfilled her career goal as a Crime Analyst and sought some personal liberation through her writing. “My life was dictated by the standards everyone needed me to fill, writing taught me that the only thing that needed filling was me.”