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Thursday, October 14, 2010

The Careful Poet

Here I sit
Holding each syllable
To the light
Considered and polished
Again and again
Sometimes discarded
While you, out there
Spread the street
Gaily with vomitous
Outpouring expecting
Me to walk out and
Slosh, happily
Through
Banging a tambourine
Ignoring
My ruined shooed syllables
Soaked in your mess

3 comments:

  1. Yes, we the careful poets.

    It comes easy for some, yet while time speeds up I get slower, more measured.

    Welcome Dr P. (#200) to Poets United.

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  2. Thank you for the welcome... Your site is stunning!

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  3. FYI I am I fear too often the vomits " careless poet" throwing about my words in poem after poem while others are far more measured!

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