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Your Disdain for Poetry and my Will to Change that
Words wind around your head two-fold
As you spend limitless hours deciphering
Tomorrow’s prophetic life lessons
Or better yet, a farewell to the concise and the clear
Indulge in metaphors that you can care less of
Linking irrelevant correlations
And reading between the lines
when the lines themselves are drawn roughly
Across the canvas you simply call “paper”
Musical, lyrical tendencies tapered off
because your mind is warped by repetitious readings
Of the SAME DAMN WORDS
Perpetual analysis of effectual emotions
You pine night and day
for the ever-so-green grasses
or the solace of sorrows
or even the words that scream for tomorrow’s end
poems of English literature—the grandiose, like no other,
freaking, yes I said freaking, lexicon of the greatest
or so “they” say but you think otherwise…
nonetheless you’d rather sleep and dream of sheep
succumb to the inner recesses of your mind:
a mastered imagination
amid reality’s usual routine
close your eyes and relax…
Now I BLARE words into your veins
Spinning thread into a fate
That serves you poetry on a plate
Seemingly seamed fabrics of
Sonnets and haikus and free verse too
Are bursting beyond the edges of the
Monster-filled seas of analysis
In poems, emotions are captured
in tangible, yet indescribable, stanzas
A stand against the brewing coffee stains
Left on the white t-shirt worn by many
A stand against the imprints of disaster
That surge up into the soul when no one else is there to listen…
Or an expression of euphoria: fun-filled words that rhyme and reason
Or rhyme for no reason at all
Except only to distill the water needed
to sustain life into MY imagination
and yours too if you allow the broken-down doors to be open
poetry is a sustenance of words
that otherwise become foreign to my lips
poetry is like lyrics to my favorite songs
or an untold story unfolding into a script
better yet, poetry is my favorite expression
when I’m alone and itching to write
my words wind around your head two-fold
you may still hate poetry, but I suspect
a sleeping desire for poetry ready to wake
at any moment, at any time in your life
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Favorite Quote:
"And though she be but little, she is fierce."- Shakespeare