A PIECE OF WORK

 A PIECE OF WORK

Why do I write poetry, you ask…

Have you ever seen the beauty of

small things? The magic of a quantum

world where time can sparkle backwards?

There is more truth in entanglement than

all your philosophies, they tell me even

at that smallest scale, there is proof of

whole other universes where all the

bad things turned out better. A place

where the lover I am supposed to have,

has me in a British tree house,

a dozen merry men below; we rob the rich, 

sing off key, and drink nut brown ale.

My favorite, though, is just the other side 

and has a kind of flower so delicate, 

so intricate, that it holds a picture of 

desirable you, and they’ve never even 

heard of Georgia O’Keefe.

I write poetry because the smaller the

thing, the greater the beauty, the fewer

the words, the deeper in they go.

I write poetry, because too many folks

have forgot who they are, and need

reminding.

Reviews

[Lorry]

Awww man! I was about to astound you with my knowledge of the Robin Hood myth, which I found out while watching a long ago episode of Q.I. ... but I can't for the life of me find a clip on YouTube, so maybe I just dreamt it instead.
So in my dream (apparently) the myth of Robin Hood was played out in song by of all people, textile merchants, in song... which kinda makes sense if you've ever read the tale. It has about 300 fabrics and colours mentioned in it, one of which is Lincoln graine, which somehow has now become Lincoln Green! (I think Lincoln graine was more red than green, but I can't remember because although I went to bed with my clever head on, I woke up with my confuselated head on and I haven't had enough caffeine yet!
But as to why we write I believe myriad reasons all align in so many intricate ways within us, that rarely the question why doesn't appear and instead is replaced to just get it written down first before pondering the complexities of that question that can make your head swim even in a desert.
Come to think of it, the lack of why could make writing the most addictive of things without even knowing it and could lead to novelesque preambles that could fill a library and still not scratch the surface.
So in summation, I knoweth not! But for the sake at least getting to a point so we can all get on with our day, I shall doff my hat to your explanation and say "hear here"" to your fine words sir!
Now where's that caffeine? 😃

[Vol]

Ha, Lorry...
In reality, I just want to be famous... and some kid's nightmare when they are stuck in a future Space Age Poetry 101 class at ELON University in a crater on Mars. Three whole pages in volume two of the Norton Anthology of Modern Martian Poetry. Oh, and RICH too. I want to be rich, dress funny and do readings while stoned when they fly me to New York and Edenborough...They need to get a move on though... I ain't getting no younger...
Vol

[Lorry]

But Vol, if you do readings stoned, do the giggles become a part of the actual poetry?
If they did, you would be able to record each session and sell bootleg downloads after each session! 😃

[Vol]

Lorry,
Hey, man! F**k the audience; they are on their own... Like those idiots who go to THE WHO concerts and sit on the front row with no earplugs...
Huh? What? Did you say something?
Vol

[DIVYA]

You write poetry for all the good reasons Vol. This resonated with me a lot today. I think the moment we begin to find great reasons for writing poetry, the fun goes out. The best poetry starts for no reason but a tiny ripple within. I think we live for that.

[Vol]

Divya,
I remember as a kid exploring my world, turning over rocks, digging holes, climbing trees, reading books for all the changes offered inside. Going after those "tiny ripples" studying them, tasting, listening to them is just like that... what happens if I use THIS word to describe THAT thought, or compare this rough texture to that smooth emotion? It is an exercise of exploring our own internal forest for treasures we can share...
Vol

[c4ssiopeia]

"I write poetry, because too many folks have forgot who they are, and need reminding." is the best line of written word i've read in a long time

[Fabian G. Franklin]

I enjoyed this. I'm always a bit ashamed to call myself a poet, not because the statement is misleading or dishonest, but because of the fact that it defines me. I have a love/hate relationship with words. They can be beautiful or ugly as anything in life. And words diminish feeling to an observer sport. They shrink things down that are wide as the sky in our hearts. They reveal the secrets of our souls. But they comfort and cajole; romance and wonder their way back into the good graces of the writer every time.

[Vol]

Fabian,
And that is why I say poetry, real poetry, drips poison, has fangs and carries a gun. If it is worth the time, poetry must first challenge the world, and our view of it so we will never be the same, feelings be damned! A poet friend of mine, James C. Floyd, said we don't read poems to understand the words, we don't read poems to understand the poet, we read poems to understand ourselves. Folks get confused because the discovery of powerful ideas and new revelations create strong feelings. But who cares how the truth FEELS? Care about what it means!
Vol

[Vol]

And Fabian! You sir need not bow to anyone... You are a real-thing poet, no modesty required... I'm just proud to know you...
Vol

[MCS]

My friend, you are so right. We all need reminding. This is an eloquent piece of writing. Greatly enjoyed.

[Vol]

MCS,
Thank you... and yes we do...
Vol

[ETERNITY]

Vol, I frequently lose sight of why I'm here; to practice my writing and poetry skills.

You shake me up and bring me back into the light!

Drinking nut brown ale, eh?

[Vol]

Dessi,
Yeah, it doesn't make the singing any better, it just sounds like it does...
Vol

[Ms claws]

Vol, you are really something. "Now, my liege, I bid you Adieu!" (a curtsy ...and a kiss blown over the top of my cockade fan ;)

[ETERNITY]

EXCUSE ME SISTER? @Vol, I'd love to be in that treehouse with you. Oh, the games we could play. Read to me your writings and we share the stolen bounty which I always give to you. Robinhood.

[Vol]

Hey, you want a treat? Find and watch "Tarzan and his Mate." THEY knew how to have fun in a treehouse! And while skinny-dippin' in rivers.
Vol

[Ms claws]

@Vol, I shall try to remember, "I write poetry because the smaller the

thing, the greater the beauty, the fewer

the words, the deeper in they go."

[Vol]

Dessi,
Words are the gold and jewels in every poet's treasure chest... Civilization lives by it's vocabulary...
Vol

[ETERNITY]

...and Four Roses