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nat-lipstadtPoems
making a living (writing poetry) in the time of Pandemic listening to priest Leonard, while locked in my library-cell, isolating my body to spare all the rest my very worst, not forgetting that the heart that needs guarding,^ comes along to make sure I stay within in-sane lane this poems allegorical title arrives like a hit pop song, one you firm believing, of course, you know all the words, no way, you don’t, like make a living writing poetry, nah, you just make living, writing poetry every lover found and lost, recorded, every turning point turned into a lyric stylized, every incident memorized, timed ‘n rhymed, so total recall even in a disorderly meter still unvarnished survives, and that’s how my living became such well paid poetry playing my own life backwards, praying for all life forward, don’t intubate me if it comes to that, cause I’ll be needing vocals, them chords vital to record my fellow Jerusalem-bound pilgrims who appoint a poet-in-residence as recording secretary of the Covid ward, to make their living, not their dying, poetry, in the time of Pandemic April 10, Twenty-Twenty 10:53am Good Friday Passover, 2nd day, 5780
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Apr 10, 2020
Apr 10, 2020 at 12:08 PM UTC
making a living (writing poetry) in the time of Pandemic
making a living (writing poetry) in the time of Pandemic listening to priest Leonard, while locked in my library-cell, isolating my body to spare all the rest my very worst, not forgetting that the heart that needs guarding,^ comes along to make sure I stay within in-sane lane this poems allegorical title arrives like a hit pop song, one you firm believing, of course, you know all the words, no way, you don’t, like make a living writing poetry, nah, you just make living, writing poetry every lover found and lost, recorded, every turning point turned into a lyric stylized, every incident memorized, timed ‘n rhymed, so total recall even in a disorderly meter still unvarnished survives, and that’s how my living became such well paid poetry playing my own life backwards, praying for all life forward, don’t intubate me if it comes to that, cause I’ll be needing vocals, them chords vital to record my fellow Jerusalem-bound pilgrims who appoint a poet-in-residence as recording secretary of the Covid ward, to make their living, not their dying, poetry, in the time of Pandemic April 10, Twenty-Twenty 10:53am Good Friday Passover, 2nd day, 5780
^ ~ “Above everything else, guard your heart; for it is the source of life's consequences. Proverbs 4:23)~
#lipstadt#making#living#writing#poetry#time#of#pandemic
nat-lipstadt
Written by
nat-lipstadt
99/M/NYC/Lippstadt/Kraków
Apr 10, 2020
Apr 10, 2020 at 12:08 PM UTC
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