Poem in the First Person
Wait! Before you begin a new poem do you really want to add yet one more to the planet’s population of unread poems? Are…
Wait! Before you begin a new poem
do you really want to add yet one
more to the planet’s population of unread poems?
Are you so sure what emerges will be
among the read ones the ones in their
own daylight aboveground leading
happy lives as part of the melodious family of
read or at least skimmed over or even
half-heartedly glanced at poems?
Those of us who are among the unread
have to hang out in neon-lit 24 hour diners or
hospital emergency rooms in case someone
somewhere might turn to us or happen upon us
and begin reading silently to themselves or
on a good night or day
even read us out loud
(I’m thrilled at the prospect!)
We all have to be on call and all our
ducks in a row so to speak in
readiness but you should know
we’re the Silent Majority we poems
gorgeously written but
never read
I don’t want to discourage you and
getting read may not be
uppermost in your mind as you set out yet again
through the beast-ridden savage forest of a
new poem
Maybe for you a poem being
alive anywhere under
moonlit clouds in a haunted purple
landscape with wide-eyed creatures is
enough and if someone should actually
turn on a light and read it and it flowers into full
Technicolor and sense-surround sound well
bravo!
And if it stays in a
dark drawer as so many of us did for so
long with Emily’s tidy
ribboned bundles that’s
Okay too —
Go ahead!
Write on!
God speed
and good luck!
(from 2011, from new book: The Match that Becomes a Conflagration, in preparation, insha’Allah.)
Categories: Writing down Poems, Poems