Don’t hand me the deliberate tones
Of music and tell me to dance
Or the ostentation of imagery
Do not give me moving pictures
Let my becoming animate the form
Give me the lines of the poet
And a stitching together of sense
That bonds a universal self
To its origins while giving
Flexibility and an open mind
I don’t need the harlem renaissance
To hear you, oh muse, calling me
Across time and space your voice
Reaching out to set aright
Direction of your adherent’s foot
Pick up the ball and run with it
Hah! A sports analogy that’s rich
Blank verse is good enough for you
I know you don’t need any more
Brothers carry this to the goal line
And relay that shit like lightening
Push, push you fuckers push
With everything in you push
On the cliffs of Dionysus feel
Compassion for the falling
The poet, the quintessential liar
The fox and rat who finds a way
The wriggling through that is so human…
You most honest psychologist and slacker
Aesthetic life sustains us both.
Let me be the first to pay you
Though in lines it be and little
Let me say what no one else could
Job well done – space monkeys all
And a bonus for not having asked
Or waited
Previous 
Next 
Categories
Tag Cloud
Blog RSS
Comments RSS
Last 50 Posts
Back
Void 
Life 
Earth 
Wind 
Water 
Fire