Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2017
What kind of obscure analysis
Implies
What instantaneous retraction
Denies
Although I still believe
The illuminated illustration
Stands fast ... in resolute conviction
That poets can be and often are...
... word butchers!

And then... In...
That hyper Inflated
Monumental moment of Silence
You can hear the discourse
Running rampant through
The metaphorically impaled
Dignity...
As it swallows
In hardchecking defense
Restraining those words
Rising up... in roiling need to avenge
This appalling offense

Screaming eyes burning holes
And every single letter as it streams past
Resolved
To the abrogated
With a sudden conviction
That None Shall be absolved
Not a single a or double m
Whit or whim

Simply waiting with war raging
Beneath this thin veneer
Of social mores and polite adherence
The smiling face and the calm appearance
Of an understanding listener

Knowing and aware
Of the growing
Self-affirming
Sense of indignation
That's such effrontery as to call
Any poet
Even if it is themself
That they spoke of
Just 30 seconds ago
And now winding up and winding down
Any point have this interdiction

Sudden ponderous silence  echoeing with a question mark laden intensity  of the guantlets swing...... how can you call yourself a word butcher and be any kind of... of... of... A poet?

With quizzical eyes. and mild surprise
My face pops forward and up
To gaze upon the springboard
Of this questioning ...
... but obviously sincere
Learned yet learning... lover of words
So leaning in close
And then in whispered tones
Whispered in conspiratorial antipathy
Because I treat them gently
I weigh them Fair
I carve just enough excess
to leave them with value
I wrap them in clean white parchment and tie them up with pride ....
....then pass them over
to be ...unwrapped
savored and enjoyed by...... I hope
a recipient
who enjoys what was related  
Then
With all the luck in the world
ends up sated... by the words
and the thoughts
That I had created

Then watching them walk away the army disbanded and the war horses went calm while the learned yet learning lover of words..... couldn't think of a single word to say.
Keith W Fletcher
Written by
Keith W Fletcher  63/M/Oklahoma
(63/M/Oklahoma)   
371
   Ayesha
Please log in to view and add comments on poems