"breaky" poems - Hello Poetry

like a good poet, I whine and whinny: the muses are unreliable, get too much paid vacation, unlimited unpaid, and pretend their cells are out of range, even when they are in bed with you and you’re near desperate to cop a feel of inspiration my problem is a variation on the theme. Everyday I jot down too many possibilities, a handful of words added to the list of pound bound childless titles, sad faced orphans, dogs and cats, squeaking “pick me, pick me,” our reply a casual “you on the list” rather than admit they are titled, but bodiless until cupid smashes a cupcake in my face and the bell rings there they stand - at a friendless crossroads - direction home, path unknown, awaiting a poet tour guide to complete them if this sounds a bit like a bad achy breaky country song, then you and I, on the same side of where I could be headed cause at the friendless crossroads, always unsure, left foot first? that first line, first step, could be a false messiah, or a free-at-last, a free-at-last emancipation but there are no sidelines in a forest there no sidelines in a poet’s mind; there are the minefields of mindfulness that can explore explode and explain why it is tempting to believe that every gifted one deserves a break today but you cannot be broken or break off from the community “Hillel said: Do not separate yourself from the community; and do not trust in yourself until the day of your death. Do not judge your fellow until you are in his place. Do not say something that cannot be understood but will be understood in the end. Say not: When I have time I will study because you may never have the time” my friend, substitute writing poetry for study, for study is for us the analysis of everything, that is, everything we say, see and know the need to communicate so those who abide in the life of good words will not suffer an abdication (yours) do not think there are friendless crossroads, there are only crossroads that the eye cannot yet see a fellow sojourner coming toward him, bearing an oversized load of the inside insight of responsibility that demands sharing that is why we call our meetings at a crossroads, a cross

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Feb 4, 2018

Feb 4, 2018 at 10:21 AM UTC

lmnsinner

“standing at a friendless crossroads”

like a good poet, I whine and whinny: the muses are unreliable, get too much paid vacation, unlimited unpaid, and pretend their cells are out of range, even when they are in bed with you and you’re near desperate to cop a feel of inspiration my problem is a variation on the theme. Everyday I jot down too many possibilities, a handful of words added to the list of pound bound childless titles, sad faced orphans, dogs and cats, squeaking “pick me, pick me,” our reply a casual “you on the list” rather than admit they are titled, but bodiless until cupid smashes a cupcake in my face and the bell rings there they stand - at a friendless crossroads - direction home, path unknown, awaiting a poet tour guide to complete them if this sounds a bit like a bad achy breaky country song, then you and I, on the same side of where I could be headed cause at the friendless crossroads, always unsure, left foot first? that first line, first step, could be a false messiah, or a free-at-last, a free-at-last emancipation but there are no sidelines in a forest there no sidelines in a poet’s mind; there are the minefields of mindfulness that can explore explode and explain why it is tempting to believe that every gifted one deserves a break today but you cannot be broken or break off from the community “Hillel said: Do not separate yourself from the community; and do not trust in yourself until the day of your death. Do not judge your fellow until you are in his place. Do not say something that cannot be understood but will be understood in the end. Say not: When I have time I will study because you may never have the time” my friend, substitute writing poetry for study, for study is for us the analysis of everything, that is, everything we say, see and know the need to communicate so those who abide in the life of good words will not suffer an abdication (yours) do not think there are friendless crossroads, there are only crossroads that the eye cannot yet see a fellow sojourner coming toward him, bearing an oversized load of the inside insight of responsibility that demands sharing that is why we call our meetings at a crossroads, a cross