Paeans - and Aches

over the years

Tuesday, September 07, 2010

This poem

This poem is not unusual
many have written similar
more will follow, unperturbed,
that it is a path often taken

This poem is not about struggle
or discrimination
or poverty
This poem was written in the back seat of a car
headed for an Open Mic
a car with a full tank
and an engine that purrs smooth
though the paint is flecked
the body dented
and the carpets leave no doubt
that its the monsoon

This poem was not born to privilege either
it will not be read merely
because of its provenance

This poem has friends, though
who will nod and smile
at the right places
and applaud with sincerity
born of friendship if not enthusiasm

This poem isn't sure it's a poem
It searches for itself
in the faces of others
it is looking for its white picket fence

This poem would like to have coffee with you
maybe dinner and a drink
and talk until morning

This poem is not a love poem
but it thinks it loves you

This poem is not polished
it must warp and morph
perhaps into a Form
be cut and rearranged

This poem must compete with non-poems
that bring food to the table
and pay the rent

This poem wants to wave gracefully at you
from under its crown and sash
this poem wants world peace
loves Mother Teresa and Mandela

This poem knows it won't live forever
that it won't even be remembered
that there's no heaven
but hell is obtainable

This poem thinks mortality sucks

This poem has potential
This poem wants to be brief
This poem is terrified of your inattention
This poem thinks it should end now


Blogger waheeba said...

Awsome poem..!!:)

21/11/10 23:22  
Blogger Rhett said...

That is one honest poem I have read!

19/12/10 23:19  
Blogger lipsa said...

an absolutely lovely poem....congos!love the part "This poem must compete with non-poems
that bring food to the table
and pay the rent"

21/8/11 22:18  

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