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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
Rating:

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 snake’s 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 don’t 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? No. 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) -

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