A Hard Poem

Mind

Must I go crazy just to write a song?
And how will that affect the poesy?
A torrent and an upsurge from my soul

Bring the words required for a poem

With the meanings knit into the phrases.

It's rage! It's rage! I'll make it beautiful.

Plates and mantles shifting in the earth

Release a gas that spews into the lines

And hardens into their longevity.

Half inspired, half conscious – I don't know

Consciousness – the tip of the unconscious.

A hard poem, beaten to submission

Thrusts its way into my consciousness.

Am I crazy? I take pills for that.

12-16-13

 

Images

Anger and love sound the same in all species.

Gentleness softens a soul.

I would adapt in the

Arms of a lover

I didn't desire.

A goon to approach!

I writhe and I die in

Remembrance and shame!

No longer a gush from

An artery opened,

My poems emerge from

The sight of my mind.

And up through the earth

Like a monster awakened

Emerges my visual soul!

12-16-13

 

A Hard Poem

My poems are too busy

Like a mind distressed.

Then suddenly they'll burst

Onto a sweet plateau

And lie upon the grass

Peaceful in the sun.

Metaphors and images!

Junkets was sensations

Hanging from a story,

A decorated plot.

The time for reading poetry

Is practically passe,

To maunder through a narrative

In quietude is gone,

Even though the images

Are crystals from a pool.

12-16-13

Fantasy

I cried.

40 years and on the verge of it.

I said I can't imagine in a queue

Waiting for a movie with my arm

Happily and casually

Round another's shoulder.

The therapist said, “Then you'll never do it.”
50 years and I've been writing poems,

And I can't imagine being great.

12-16-13