What if a bartender
Asks you what you’ll have,
And you answer, “A banana”?
What if she gives you one?
What is weirder?
What if a cab driver picks you up,
And before he starts driving he asks,
“Where to?”
And you say, “Your house.”
And then he takes you there.
What is weirder?
What if you have a birthday party,
And someone asks you how old you are,
And you say, “I’m dead.”
And then they bury you.
What is weirder?
Try to make sense of that, my friend.
Poetry is not writing.
Poetry is painting.
Poetry is living and loving.
Poetry is sharing.
Poetry is me and you and us.
Poetry is my past, present and future.
What is yours?
Who are you?
Who am I?
Who do they say that I am?
I am poetry. I am you.
I am yesterday, today and tomorrow.
I am dead.
I am what you fear.
I am what you like.
I am what you want.
I am nothing.
I am everything.
I am that I am.
What am I?
Who do you think I am?
What is the point?
What is the truth?
What is the point of truth?
Why not tell each other lies all day?
Wouldn’t that be more fun? 🙂
Today I listened to professors
Say what professors say
About poetry.
“There must be an access,”
One declared.
“Write in sentences,”
Said another.
My poems are in English!
Isn’t that access enough?
Perhaps we look too much
For poetry to communicate.
Perhaps we are used to being
Spoon-fed our art.
Isn’t there room to think,
To ponder, to consider,
To analyze?
If a psychologist can interpret
A reading of something as abstract
As a Rorschach,
Can’t readers come up
With something
From difficult poems?
Do we have to speak plainly?
What is the fun in that?
How about a challenge?
How about solving a riddle?
How about mystery?
Perhaps one day
People will read poems
In order to understand
Another person,
Instead of always
Expecting a mirror
Into which they can gaze
At their own reflection.
Catch a phrase,
Pound it in.
See-saw your opinion,
Tell the truth.
Be honest,
But not brutally so.
Love first.
Do not judge.
Befriend,
Take an interest.
Ask yourself,
How can I help?
Getting to know you
Is a privilege,
Not a right.
All is one.
So, what do you think?
What is your take
On this hopeful situation?
Do you want to grow?
I want to be
The best friend
That I can be,
No matter what.
What do you need?
Where are you from?
What do you like to do?
Who are you?
What is your name?
What do your friends call you?
Who are your family?
Take a small step,
And I will leap.
Twisted funnies enraptured
With seduction in a tea cup.
Faux pas amidst enlightenment.
Scribble riddles crying out.
Mysterious values tipping the ship.
Chain reactions squeezed into
A perfect soliloquy to love,
Death, triumph and defeat.
Creative juices overflowing the glass.
Revolution of time and passing
Through to another dimension.
Fantastic claims and ingenious
Turns of heckling phrases.
Screams in the night echoing
Through dark alleys and into
Dumpsters. Ricocheting above
The unseemly revelation
That all is one and you are me.
Captured in hell and rescued
In heaven. Torment and release.
All joking aside, life is really
Pretty funny when you
Think about it. Crazy half-thoughts
Cascading down in waterfalls
Of painted words. Gagging on
The spoon of sugar dripping
With formaldehyde. Castor oil
Fills the swimming pool.
Twisted funnies enraptured
With seduction in a tea cup.
Faux pas amidst enlightenment.
Scribble riddles crying out.
Mysterious values tipping the ship.
Chain reactions squeezed into
A perfect soliloquy to love,
Death, triumph and defeat.
Creative juices overflowing the glass.
Revolution of time and passing
Through to another dimension.
Fantastic claims and ingenious
Turns of heckling phrases.
Screams in the night echoing
Through dark alleys and into
Dumpsters. Ricocheting above
The unseemly revelation
That all is one and you are me.
Captured in hell and rescued
In heaven. Torment and release.
All joking aside, life is really
Pretty funny when you
Think about it. Crazy half-thoughts
Cascading down in waterfalls
Of painted words. Gagging on
The spoon of sugar dripping
With formaldehyde. Castor oil
Fills the swimming pool.
Swing start long snout
Verge on sleepy sanity
Soap opera family fear
Inside dream concubine
Lean leave don’t that
Taunt ripe rant rover
Ramp rice lice lamp
Limp ripped night nigh
Rye tight mite trite
Never maybe lady lie
My canoe blue into
New rude blood boo
We see keep like ramp
Leaving, coming, staying put.
Going around the long way
Is sometimes worth doing.
Taking time to look at the scenery,
Even if the scenery is
The latest road construction.
Look at the men.
See their faces.
Think about what it takes for them
To do an honest days work,
To put food on the table,
To pay the doctor bill,
For their sick child at home,
Who is not covered by insurance
Because her father’s employer
Doesn’t think it’s important enough
To provide benefits
For his employees.
And when he has finished
At that job, he goes home,
Takes a shower, and then goes
To his other job as a janitor
At a local private business,
Trying to be friendly and polite
To all the employees
As they leave their only job
To go home to rest
And spend time with their families,
While he is just beginning
Several hours
Of emptying trash cans
And mopping floors.
Sometimes life just isn’t fair.
Some interesting points made here about using words with dark meanings…and I agree.
Stripped lip hip tip how
You create love apple
Angel step strike leave
Talent teach tarantula
Take rapture tingle
Tend teepee torch tick
Leap label lapel ladle
Able inside arrange
Order end leap like
Lord toward ice act it
Teak make mark meat
Peak peek peat prove
Louvre lewd too toad
Move maple morbid
Local lead tell mead
Stumbling along the sidewalk 