She writes on the end of her bed in some farm house on the edge of nothing but corn.
He writes In his foxhole on the edge of the Somme
they fall in love on a moonlit night as he recites her the words of Hughes and she smiles as she decides to give him her most valuable gift.
The president of powerful country considers suicide as he remembers the words of Angelou that spoke to him as a child.
two drunks smile as they discuss how Mary Shelly wrote Frankenstein in a much colder winter.
a young man vibrates as he completes the final stanza of his most beloved poem that entails his love for a black women that eliminates any idea of they are somehow nothing but in love as all love may someday end this racist age.
a suit faced young man makes plans to head for the sierras to look for Twain’s frog in the foothills.
poetry wants nothing to sale and has less to convince. Poetry was the first and the only form of communication that lends a vulnerable creatures the timeless hope of we are not or have never been alone to dream.
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Author:
The man who talks (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: October 22nd, 2021 03:30
- Comment from author about the poem: Was searching for a value in poetry in general .
- Category: Sociopolitical
- Views: 33
- Users favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek, Fay Slimm..
Offline)
Comments3
Art came before words
and Relatability, existed before Art
and here you've encompassed, that Poetic Art of Relatability
reaching-out, beyond
the ambitions of your words...
(an impactful and important write, ambitious and brave in your undertaking
and executed with the practised ease, of a passionate wordsmith..
thanks for sharing!)
indeed let us all, look forward
to a time where race
refers only to self identity and that childhood naivety
where competing at foot speeds, equated
to all our troubles in life...
That’s a very kind comment. Although, I disagree that it deserves the accolades you expressed. Just the obvious statements and ironic example that primitively taught a young man from a very uneducated society by means of the most basic desire. A truly ominous warning of how dangerous the world is.
Excellent word-usage in this very readable piece - one which I intent reading again hence it goes into my list of favourites while saying a big thank you for such a captivating read.
Faye, it means a lot you used captivating and readable in the same comment. Personally, if you can pull that off you’ve written something for everyone in every moment. I will be sure to take a look see at your art.
I would say the cavemen gave us poetry through art, and we all added the words.
Mr. Bell, I would have to agree with you. Some guys many thousand years later may say that’s pretty broad.
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