INSIDE A POET'S HEAD WHILE ON A WALK

Everything you are about

to read is true, I know,

because I made it up myself.

What if I never die and

all of this is for naught?

Memories are faster than

the speed of light, just

think of all the baggage

they have to carry,

smells, sights, sounds,

those great leaps of joy

and tumbles into darkness,

all arranged the way our

ego sees them inside our

personal fantasyland.

I want to die with the fangs

of some great poem sunk

into my throat, talons digging

my guts, and drown in the

beauty of red and yellow flames

so when I burst, and every color

I’ve ever known scatters all over

the walls inside everyone

I’ve left behind, they’ll

look skyward and scratch

their heads at the smooth gray

clouds drifting low and slow

I’m no fan of folks I don’t know,

especially when they gather in

large groups. They lose themselves,

and their proud freewill is turned

over to whoever holds the mic.,

those blue screen faces whose lies

are not innocent. Boy, can they twist

the meaning of words, but there is

no poetry in them.

Next door is the town cemetery

and one of the gravestones

proclaims

“John Tipton

murdered in cold blood.”

I have to take these walks every day

because my heart is beginning to

break, but I don’t…

I wish thinking was a cardio exercise,

but that’s why I keep telling you,

poetry is not about your tender feelings.

So shut your wormhole

go outside,

climb a tree,

make the neighbors

wonder what the hell

you are up to now.

Reviews

[Lorry]

Ahh, I remember the furore that came the Coen brothers way when they said at the start of Fargo that it was a true story, which they explained they could say after being told they couldn't, because it was fiction! That still makes my brain itch, but anyhow... as we age we lose some memories, which is understandable, but can you imagine forgetting the smell of coffee? Forgetting the taste of your partners lips yes, but coffee?
And I agree about the crowds, which I'm not a fan of even in small groups. Walking along a busy street when people or going to or leaving work is like insanity as a bunch of humans act like lemmings and just follow the crowd, while every nerve in their body screams out against it. It's just not natural for everyone to blindly follow. I mean, where does sense end and the cliff begin?
There is no worse feeling that you are completely out of control while at pedestrian pace and it would only take one to lose their s**t and we'd all end up underneath an oncoming truck, for a job we most likely detest, just to pay ever increasing taxes for the privilege of being forced into an early grave!
Remember when we ennviedthe young? Now we think "s**t folks, sorry but it ain't my problem"
And my neighbour (Katie) stopped caring what I was up to a long time ago. I can almost hear her narration as she shakes her head at me as I talk to the birds and tell them all to share and play nice, just before I go hug a tree and throw rocks at the mailman! (Well, it's only bills he brings anyway!) 😃

[Vol]

Yeah, Man...
and the best part of all is to have a friend who "Gets it," The world is held together with stupidity just because its so sticky and has gotten all over everybody, except here, in our little WC dome of poetry, where our brand of insanity seems absolutely normal.
Vol

[Kate AKS]

"there is no poetry in them."
I think that's the best verdict for some people when you know that you can't explain what bothers you.


"I wish thinking was a cardio exercise"
It is, it uses mostly the heart, not the brain. Poems are the best HIIT workout, it reminds us that we are still alive.

Vol, like usually one more deep poem.

[Vol]

Kate!!!
Whoopie!!! You are back... Someday, I would love to sit quietly and hear of your adventures... I have prayed for you frequently and am always afraid when I hear of what you must be dealing with.
Thank you for your kind comment... It is a human thing it think, how you, a world away, have become the face of Ukraine for me... I am so glad to shear fro9m you again!
Vol

[Thomas W Case]

Superb work. Powerful and well crafted.

[Vol]

Thanks, Thomas...

[Lara]

yes!
absolutely yes, vol! 🫶

[Vol]

Lara,
Why, mi'ldy, you say the nicest things!
Vol