An Ode to a Poet of Nature

A Country Wordsmith

Oh! Poet of nature, nature’s bard,
I respect thee, thy glorious art.
Thy cheerful songs relieve the wounded,
Thy flights of fancy take them way ahead.
But listen, there are other things,
Your mighty pen should pen down,
A poor’s deplorable life and sight,
And corrupt rule of the crown.
Sing no more of birds and flowers,
Seasons, moon or heavenly Earth.
Sing of babies who are strangled,
Mercilessly, before their birth.
Sing no more of lovers’ deep sighs,
Their solitudes or tears they wept.
But sing of those unfortunate lads,
At nights, without bread they slept.
Sing no more of wild, oceans or streams,
Nor of romantic winds, nor of springs.
Sing of farmers, laborers, their mundane,
Sing of wretched, deprived, their dark evenings.

  • Author: A Country Wordsmith (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: October 11th, 2021 01:48
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 15
  • User favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek.
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Comments1

  • L. B. Mek

    (thanks for sharing and inspiring my feeble reply, sorry again if you take offence to anything I have written)
    there's a reason Why, some choose
    to wrap their Poetry,
    in the hope of Nature
    or that pitifully scarce, sweetness of life..
    Yes, by all means
    we should all express our reality, as-is, Raw and defiantly Bold
    we should Never, project a reality that's foreign to our eyes
    But,
    I ask you, Why do you write?
    is it merely, to use your words
    as tightened fists
    and your blank canvas: as your punching bag?
    and if so, are you 'Punching - away'
    to learn how to Hurt, others
    like you've been hurt - or
    are you utilising
    a tool for self-expression
    to rid yourself
    of the frustration, hopelessness and hate: in your inherited circumstances and experience of life...?
    Write, what you like
    write, As you like
    Write, for Who you choose to,
    But,
    if all your words, merely amount
    to you perpetuating the same
    suffering, you yourself have experienced
    then I ask, where's the utility/purpose? to what end?
    why waste/invest so much of your precious, fleeting Time
    and not try, to get something back in-return?
    Why not instead, write your away
    to a different mindset/perspective
    gradually, syllable by syllable...
    find out, how
    in this cruel world
    Some, still choose
    despite their horrid experiences
    to write about the beauty, you yourself can't identify with?
    and if you fail, if that 'better' never reveals itself to you,
    do you miss-out on anything?
    Instead, is there a chance
    you can utilise your 'poetic eloquence' to gift someone
    a break,
    from their monotonous existence of all-things: despairingly drear?
    (that's why
    Some, choose to write about Nature
    not, Because they don't know suffering and Pain
    Not, because
    they don't see the crimes being committed in the world
    and Not, because
    they refuse to give Voice to the cruelty in people's, daily Reality.
    But,
    instead - they Choose
    to utilise their words,
    as a Beacon of hope for those looking
    to Change, their view of Life
    to Aspire, to a reality that's a little less Bleak
    to Inspire, Motivate
    and highlight the timeless-truth: that Who we are
    and Where we are
    in our lives,
    is never too late, to be swapped
    for the What, we want: out of life...)
    forgive my rude - lengthy rant,
    I just wanted to showcase my perspective
    on a specific point that you touch upon,
    the 'You' in my wording, is a generic one
    not specifically addressed to you directly,

    • A Country Wordsmith

      Thanks Mek for your time and reply and no, you are not offending me at all but giving your invaluable feedback. Now as far as the poem is concerned, the things that i said are not absolute truths as there are none. So many different things inspire poetry. It can be emotions, experiences of all kinds and sometimes some type of emotions or factors can be stronger than others. For example, sometimes you are overpowered by fear or sometimes by love.
      So I wrote that poem a long time ago, when I might have swayed by the miseries of the world and might have wanted poetic community to be their voice by writing about them. I don't think that we should only write about crude realities but not about beauty and nature. i myself have written about them. So what I wrote is not permanent truth but a momentary state of thought and emotions that I was going through that time.
      Thanks

      • L. B. Mek

        awesome!
        glad you're in a better place
        and I really meant it
        when I said the 'you' was generic
        in my feeble reply

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