~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This is not a poem. This is about a poem.
Poems require words. This poem does not require words.
This poem requires memories' muscles.
This poem requires what is called colloquially love.
Learn that what we share here is not poetry.
Your poetic senses that produce the words that mark you present
are but surgical tools to extract, release the whole and the parts of you that help shape that single sense borning in your chest that defines you at any particular moment.
Quæ est mater Laureat.
She is the Mother Laureate.
She is the boundary you must learn to cross to be more than a re-arranger of letters and alphabets, but a translator of the human essence and fill our veins with the a sense of awe and wonder felt when we read each other and think aloud,
"yes, exactly, that was and is precisely what I was feeling."
She is the glue that keeps us sticking here, sticking together, each of us sticking to it.
You do not know her?
No worries, she will find you when you least expect it, perhaps
when you need it.
This is not a poem. This is a human who's a poem.
Understand the difference and then you may begin a journey
that has no destination other than weaving the connective tissue that makes us anticipating excited when we log on.
Happy Birthday Mother Poet Laureate!
I do not think I can write a better not poem for you.
Forgive me then, if going toward, I repost this every
October 24th as long as the chemical composition of
blood, God, spirit, logos or reason runs free within,
exiting as words encased in tears that formulate into
human poetry.
nattyman
P.S.There are 800 poems here with Sally in the title, and least 700 are about Sally B. If you like, please feel to free to add yours, old or new.
Oct 23, 2017
Oct 23, 2017 at 12:42 PM UTC
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This is not a poem. This is about a poem.
Poems require words. This poem does not require words.
This poem requires memories' muscles.
This poem requires what is called colloquially love.
Learn that what we share here is not poetry.
Your poetic senses that produce the words that mark you present
are but surgical tools to extract, release the whole and the parts of you that help shape that single sense borning in your chest that defines you at any particular moment.
Quæ est mater Laureat.
She is the Mother Laureate.
She is the boundary you must learn to cross to be more than a re-arranger of letters and alphabets, but a translator of the human essence and fill our veins with the a sense of awe and wonder felt when we read each other and think aloud,
"yes, exactly, that was and is precisely what I was feeling."
She is the glue that keeps us sticking here, sticking together, each of us sticking to it.
You do not know her?
No worries, she will find you when you least expect it, perhaps
when you need it.
This is not a poem. This is a human who's a poem.
Understand the difference and then you may begin a journey
that has no destination other than weaving the connective tissue that makes us anticipating excited when we log on.
Happy Birthday Mother Poet Laureate!
I do not think I can write a better not poem for you.
Forgive me then, if going toward, I repost this every
October 24th as long as the chemical composition of
blood, God, spirit, logos or reason runs free within,
exiting as words encased in tears that formulate into
human poetry.
nattyman
P.S.There are 800 poems here with Sally in the title, and least 700 are about Sally B. If you like, please feel to free to add yours, old or new.
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/1441876/a-birthday-poem-for-sally-b-what-matters-can-neither-be-created-or-destroyed/
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/1960423/oh-sally-on-the-day-you-disturb-me-the-messiah-will-must-have-come/
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/1793973/sallys-birthday/
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/479145/the-banyan-tree-a-tribute-to-sally/
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/754709/matriarch-mama-sally-forth-sally/
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/573456/dearest-sally/
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/1441876/a-birthday-poem-for-sally-b-what-matters-can-neither-be-created-or-destroyed/
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2091927/all-poets-are-human-therefore-all-humans-are-poems/
Divine Intervention
the computer face timed me at midnite,
was God,
my frenemy, saying
Yo! sir,
it is awfully close to that day,
searched your phone, tablet, workstation
nary a scribble, not even a jogged notation prepared,
and the eventual event but four~few days away!
so get cracking or else!
(He can be soooooo annoying)
10/19/17 midnight
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