Once More, Thoughts on Poetry

December 2, 2018 § Leave a comment

I like poems that do little useful things for you
like telling a friend you’ve been such a jerk,
keeping one company when bored in a long queue,
or teaching some manners to a misanthropic, rude clerk.

I equally like those that tenderly take care of each word
make it touch and fit and turn to the one before,
and have nothing against those that let loose, even lose control
the unorthodox, the paradox, the ones that cut like a sword.

Like a poet I most like said in a much finer way,
poetry is the not-adult-wise child in each of us inside
that takes our hand, feeds our heart, says a pray
when dangers and fears have sent all others to hide.

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