the poets on the street
tell stories we repeat
those tales of old
those tales of life
some of them rhyme
some contain wisdom
we rage, we vent
the poets on the street
they think they’re doing fine
others wonder
why some of them tell time
some of them ponder space
others search for form
the poets are in exile
tell tales of powerful lies
the muse speaks truth
while dictators rule
these tales of war
why should we kill?
the poets on the beat
some are insane
the poets are suffering fools
some are in pain
the poets on the street
called bums in western decline
the mass produced trash
the hallmark crap
is the only rhyme
found by thoughtful sages
locked in prisons of rhyme
the poets are in exile
tell tales of powerful lies
the muse speaks truth
while dictators rule
these tales of war
why should we kill?
Excellent poem. I think the poets see more truth than all the so-called "experts". I'm reminded of the Beat generation in 1950s. The poets hit the streets and spoke to their generation.
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Very good words and verse has a beat of its own
Peggy
Sandie Angel :o) / May Lu $*_*$
tell tales of powerful lies
the muse speaks truth
while dictators rule
these tales of war
why should we kill?
Excellent poem. I think the poets see more truth than all the so-called "experts". I'm reminded of the Beat generation in 1950s. The poets hit the streets and spoke to their generation.