The Poet and His Poem

[moonbird]

I wonder
sometimes
how these poets
who fashion
the loveliest words
into intricate poetry
can be so blind.

Their immaculate creations
are so alien to them
that when they see them
on paper
or on a screen
they are no longer poets
but postpartum mothers
and they cannot live
the words they write.

The poem
laughs at the dull, serious people
who stare back gravely;
The poet
quiets his laughter
and joins their monotones.

The poem
seizes the day
with a cheerful cry of
“carpe diem!”
The poet
watches the clock
and whittles away the hours.

The poem
fascinates with stories
of beautiful lovers
and valiant heroes;
The poet
reads encyclopedias
and laughs at fairy tales.

The poems
speaks everywhere,
from weddings
to funerals,
and to everyone
who will listen,
bringing tears
and laughter
and inner peace;
The poet
hides in the shadows,
listening but never speaking,
scribbling down words
anonymously,
as if ashamed
of his glorious creations.

Live your lives,
great weavers of words!
Give birth to poems
and nurture them tenderly
until they are grown,
and then aspire to be
like them;
Embrace emotion,
the anger and sorrow,
the love and the laughter,
and everything in between;
Accept your flaws
but strive for perfection;
Break out of your comfort zone,
feel the sun on your face
and the wind in your hair
and be bright as a flame
and as free as a poem!

[Sampson]

a brilliant, inspiring poem. a joy to read! thank you

[Delta40]

I like how you separate the poet from the poem. When reading poetry on Lit-Net, the words of a poem create the poet.

[moonbird]

Thank you both for your comments. I have worked on this piece for a fairly long time now and it's great to see people like it.