When the subject of the poem cannot be Determined at all at least not precisely Because it is nothing less than everything And so instead has to be experienced Rather than read felt by flesh like a bee sting
When that is the sort of a poem you find In which everything at once is referenced Which speaks not only to the heart but the mind And deeper to plumb seas of reality Or unreality not that you must choose
When you see the magic which nobody sees And when the roulette wheel will not let you lose So you are left satisfied yet wanting more When the poem like an incantation frees All sorts of things you never thought of before
A hidden door opening to galaxies The summer the winter the fall and the spring All things all at once in the dance of the ring Then you have tasted the art of poetry Which art is the art I have chosen for me
Because it is nothing less than everything.....?
Are you sure it less, Steve. I think your poems are more of everything. The beauty of the written word is different people get different inspirations from the same words. Your point of view and mine collide in a wonderful path to understanding.
(Self-published. Please contact author directly to order.)
Enter the pages of diaspora in quiet introspection. Bathe your thoughts with subtle humor; synchronize your spirit-sense with history-in-heat; fall headlong with eyes wide open into
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Chrissy
Regis
Because it is nothing less than everything.....?
Are you sure it less, Steve. I think your poems are more of everything. The beauty of the written word is different people get different inspirations from the same words. Your point of view and mine collide in a wonderful path to understanding.
Great write.
God Bless,
Lew