There is no definition of poetry, and this is a problem. Writing something devoid of punctuation does not make it poetry. Here, I have removed the lines:
the tire was filled to the rim with water the lights were out and time seemed to be at a standstill of empathy I was understanding to the trail of thoughts but I couldn't believe they were more than the stone broken across my face in a war that suppressed my own grandchild of future apathy .. I saw the stars shining in a distant space it was calm and serene yet there was fire and I felt the flames against my skin I felt the echo of life drain from my soul for all of me was gone -- all of me was perturbed in the desire to not fear what was being drained out of me (my voice) it's always quiet when the wind blows when it stops that's when the stars fall upon eyes that become born anew it's as if being aborted by strange occurrences and not knowing the cause and not caring either etchings lay dormant tnamrod yal sgnihcte signature of fortitude and blood seeping through the cold veins of my being .. I was told by a Christian I wasn't loved but they loved me I was told by a Muslim that I was an infidel because through my blood a Jew ran, a Rabbi sang, a Christ was borne I was told by a Buddhist there was no peace in me just coldness .. utter fuckin' coldness and nothing was me through seeping blood and fortitude of [a] signature the cold veins of my being .. tnamrod yal sgnihcte etchings lay dormant I just want to hear the whispers past the regret and not have to weep more than I have to I just want to live my life without conforming to the ideals of a people who say I am not even human because I do not believe in what they believe or see what they see I just want to be my self and look into that reflecting glass and see the future become more than what it is that we all can see without regret and with-out solitude of contention .. .. .. .. I feel that's too much to ask and so the tire was filled to the rim with water but nothing was ever really in it not life or anything just the mass consumption of emptiness the mountains will all crumble and we all will perish for we are the disease that makes us breathe we are our own fortitude of contention we are nothing but the dust in the wind and we are our un-doing .. I shall not deviate from my being and my soul I shall be who I was born to be
That is not poetry. Neither is it straight prose. A new word or phrase is needed. If it is a phrase, the word ‘poetry’ should be avoided.
I say this as it is one of those streams of consciousness that have meaning to those who [work to] believe it has some meaning: first you believe, then you can believe/understand.
If we take some traditional poetry, something 100% of people recognise as poetry, e.g. America’s 10 best loved poems: http://www.theguardian.com/books/booksblog/2011/mar/11/best-american-poems
And render Song of Myself without line breaks:
I celebrate myself, and sing myself, and what I assume you shall assume, for every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you. I loafe and invite my soul, I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass. My tongue, every atom of my blood, form’d from this soil, this air, Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their parents the same, I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin, hoping to cease not till death. Creeds and schools in abeyance, retiring back a while sufficed at what they are, but never forgotten, I harbor for good or bad, I permit to speak at every hazard, Nature without check with original energy.
We can see that it is ‘poetry.’ The richness of language and the meter give the definition.