Currently Reading:
The Poet is DEAD — Long Live The POEM
An author, a writer, the Poet
Art fact of tomorrow's society
While living may portray impropriety
Whereas full value is only gleaned by posterity
Bards embody an ideal floating within realms unreal
But no persona present can realize a new deal
Throughout semantic space we grope and feel
There between lines one's anima will show it
Yet few can discern any message so inchoate
Years often pass in decades before meaning is procured
Poetic offspring must proclaim that these words are inured
Public illiteracy endured until reader minds might have matured
Carom headlong against post-modern doldrums, go beyond right or wrong
Carefree aplomb inhabits this song, which chorus hums alto strong
Vanity a ticking time bomb soon succumbs to the throng
Vanishing rhyme reappears via disappearing poet
Don't be shy, REPLY!
Post a Comment