by Robert Harrison
Saturday, September 30, 2006
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Recent poems by Robert Harrison
Hail O Mighty King
When the mind was once a boy.
A Bit Of Acceptance.
In The Morning Mists
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I was trying to discover why I had a desire to write poetry
Can one know the mind of the poet?
I think not.For they themselves are unsure as to their true identity.
They are the painter, the story teller,the linguist, the historian, the dreamer and dream catcher.
They give and they take away in words
that which is longed for, that which is
sought after: the unobtainable.
And yet in a few brief words, worlds are
created, dreams are dreamed and adventures begun.
Within the poet are all that we desire,
all that we hate and all that we remember and long for again.
The poet is the unknown, and yet their
words have a familiar sound, a familiar
vision of that which was, that which is
and that which is to become.
They are the uninvited and the invited guest of the mind, of the heart and soul.
Compelled to be read because of some faintly remembered line.
They are the lover of the faint hearted, who with trembling hand copies that which has already been written, now desiring them to be read.
The poet is in each of us, mysterious, unobtainable,unknowable, yet…some how…somewhere…we feel that…
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|Reviewed by CJ Heck
|Ahhh, the poet ... you've described us well, dear Robert, but will we ever truly know what we all we are ... well done!
|Reviewed by Richard Swartz
|you know more about being a Poet and know how a poet Wrights and it speaks to all poets who are out there with the same dreams and the same hopes and the same words that come to mind. but a poem is new not old there are new words new things that have not been written that is the fun part of wrighting poems. I be tracking you Just waiting to see what you wright next.|
|Reviewed by Chantay Leonard
|Robert I am so glad I took the opportunity to read this piece. This embodies the very essence of what being a poet is about. In our being, in our minds, in our writings are so many emotions, motivations, and worlds. We have so many identities! Thank you for this scribe.|
|Reviewed by Aberjhani
|A true rendering of the inner landscape that nurtures the poet and allows him or her to evolve and wrestle with the creative impulses that one ultimately shapes into expressions of social, spiritual, or emotional significance (even if only to the poet and no one else). Thank you for sharing such a great read.
|Reviewed by J M
|Excellent ending to this wonderful poem|
|Reviewed by Joyce Hale
|An excellent write! I believe the poet can put him/her self in places that are foreign to them to write about them.
*The poet is in each of us, mysterious, unobtainable,
Unknowable, yet…some how…somewhere…we feel that… *
|Reviewed by A PAX
|Wow, I love the way you put this
So many parts just hit the nail on the head for me. This is an intelligent, and gracful look at the life of poetry. I say life and not art because it does comsume us and becomes a part of our daily life. This write is a keeper.......Thank you for this one poet!!!