Musty tomes
of precious poems
dog-eared at that special verse
surround a room
where dwells a gloom
more sinister than any curse,
which taints the air
with deep despair
that fosters an ungracious gripe—
will anyone
beneath the sun
attempt to fathom silent type?
9 comments:
Smart
I try so very hard not to read anything into the works of others, perhaps for fear of sounding like an idiot, but I must confess this poem has me pondering far more questions than so few lines usually invoke.
Great work as always.
I think every writer suffers from a similar malaise, especially when s/he feels their words are not properly understood. They just sit on the page and rely upon the emotions of the reader to nurture and supplant. I know all too well the 'ungracious gripe'.
Much to think about here...
Well I didn't realize until after I posted that it could be directed at the reader, but I was really chastising myself for being stupid to think that less-than-communicative poems would make people want to read them. Thanks everybody!
I just wanted to add that you say more on a bad day than most of us do on a good day!
Ah, the best poetry presents ownership to the reader as well as the scribe, no? It's not art until it relates...
Thanks Shirley and Ozmo ;)
Bob, I've never read a poem of yours that didn't communicate(on multiple levels); Even the incongruity of you believing you're an "Average Poet". Oneself is often the harshest critic. Keep posting my friend!
Hey Dan thanks and don't worry, after I was seriously ill around 2000 I decided my poetry would be my main discourse with the world. Plus I just plain old love it!! Thanks for everything!
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