Thursday, April 19, 2012
painting by franz von stuck
Just do it because you can’t help it,
must do trumps might could, almost hit;
scribbling madly on dinner napkins,
quibbling sadly with verbs in trash bins.
Disturbed with Dali’s tall elephants,
perturbed with hippos that try to dance;
dreaming tattered corners in scrap books,
screaming at reflections of dark rooks.
Honey dripping from my cleverness,
money lost in poet’s wilderness;
muddied memories needing fresh air,
bloodied images taking a dare.
Only a poet will need weeping,
lonely, adrift, and never keeping;
making some sense of their angry eye,
breaking conventions before they die.
Posted over on dVerse Poets-FFA
Would you like to hear me recite these framed couplets?