Poets Starve
The Poor Poet by Carl Spitzweg
POETS STARVE
In a world where knowledge
is the new currency
poets starve.
We offer words -
thornless and long-stemmed,
hoping for them to bloom within you.
They thirst, and desiccate
unless you nourish them
so that they might thrive into circumference.
Poverty is a poem
that dies just after
you decide not to read it.
And we bleed for each one,
willing to pay the price
for those few pressed into the book of your life.
If you knew what I meant
before you read what I wrote,
you have doomed me to dust.
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Shared for Open Link Night with DVerse Poets
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©2014 Christopher Reilley
©2014 Christopher Reilley
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This is a poet’s poem, Chris! I love the idea of ‘words thornless and long-stemmed, / hoping for them to bloom within you’ and the lines:
ReplyDelete‘Poverty is a poem
that dies just after
you decide not to read it’.
The poet has a whole graveyard of poems to visit – at least we can rewrite and bring them back to life.
As a poet, I love being read, and now I have read yours just to nourish it a bit.
ReplyDeleteFrom Poet --> <3 <-- Poet. You're right, Chris, it is in the sharing that poetry flourishes.
ReplyDeleteYes, some are gifted in bouquets and don't make it to the vase.....but I'll water this one with another read. Very moving.
ReplyDelete“We offer words -
ReplyDeletethornless and long-stemmed,
hoping for them to bloom within you.”
Love this.