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The Eclectic Pen - One Poet's Confession

By: Alan (arkrebel) -   + 24 more  
Date Submitted: 2/3/2007
Genre: Literature & Fiction » Poetry
Words: 196

  I too could write poems
only a poet could understand.

Syncopated prose
written by a thesaural master,

Or fine feathered rhymes
losing their meaning,
Subtle as snakeís fur
but proud in their preening.

Or haikus from hell
Binding nature to mankind
With purpose unknown.

Or musing masterpieces
structured in strict accordance
with literary architectural design
where feet never add up to yards
and metres donít accept quarters.

Or poems that scare children,
driving them in droves
to rap, rock, roll and relate
to things they know,
words they understand,
and rhymes they remember.

A poem written by and for a poet,
forever doomed to circulate
only amongst cliques
of inspired bards,

who oooh and ahhh and smile
amongst themselves at the secrets
only they can discern.

Yes, I too could write a poem
only poets could understand,

To win an award
or perhaps be published,
To join the ranks of the chosen few,
bound in leather and anointed by critics
as an immortal wordsmith.

But do bakers bake only for bakers?
Do artists paint only for artists?
Did God create only gods?


I write my poems because I can,
To stroke a cord in the common man,
To reach the heart and touch the soul,
To share a dream and watch it grow.

To chip away a piece of me,
To watch it fly, to set it free.
A poem for Bob or Mary Sue,
Not poems for poets,
Just poems for you.

The Eclectic Pen » All Stories by Alan (arkrebel) -

Member Comments

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Comments 1 to 3 of 3
Claudia (BrokenWing) - 2/3/2007 3:31 PM ET
very nice; I like the sentiments you've expressed here.
IONE L. (zaneygraylady) - 2/4/2007 4:22 PM ET
I agree. It seems that the poetry that gets all the praises in our newspaper are hard for me to understand and relate to.
Lance C. - 2/6/2007 7:13 PM ET
Comments 1 to 3 of 3