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weirdelf
weirdelf
Aug 06, 2007 ⭐ View statistics (Premium feature)

Why I am not a poet

 

 

Today I found a gumleaf,
so beautiful I can describe no more.
I have tried,
words fail me.
I desperately want to take it to you
run to you
show it to you
each in turn.
But you are in England, Canada, India,
you are in America, New Zealand, Portugal,
you are in the Philippines, Nigeria and elsewhere,
you may be two houses away.
And I can’t.

I will take it to work tomorrow
and show.
Some might go,
oh lovely,
others might look at me as if I’m crazy.
Maybe one,
just one
will say
oh

 

— weirdelf, Aug 06, 2007

About This Poem

About the Author

Region, Country: Sydney, Australia, AUS

Favorite Poets: The Romantics, The Mersey Sound, The Beats and, of course, The Bard

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More from this author

Critiques

S

Snpdrgon

18 years 3 months ago

oh!

truly truly love this piece. If you show up at my house with it in hand, I will open my door. Even if you show up without it. :) xxx Lisa~
weirdelf

weirdelf

18 years 3 months ago

thanks, Cat and Lisa,

You you remind me that the greatest significators of humanity are sharing, support ad co-operation, cheers Jess
Mark

Mark

18 years 8 months ago

I think

although not always possible to find together and share together the excitement of really cool stuff. Together with who? If you ask this question I am truly sorry. Mark
Candlewitch

Candlewitch

18 years 3 months ago

Hello

(I think you are an excellent poet!) How very lonely, not to be able to share one's passion at the moment of ecstasy. You have expressed your feelings incredibly well! Cat
weirdelf

weirdelf

18 years 8 months ago

ouch

jeez, you nailed me with that, Mark, I didn't say it but I was also feeling a bit sorry for myself for not being able to find anyone to share it with when I found it. cheers, Jess
C

Conect11

18 years 10 months ago

and this

eloquently describes how I feel when I try to speak about Jesus. It has a haunting, sad quality which is evocative of the sadness in "Howl" by Allen Ginsberg. So few reader's and poets ever come to appreciate the melancholy in that poem, they are so wrapped up in the bravado. Good work, young Jedi. Mark
Mark

Mark

18 years 10 months ago

I once had

writers block and wrote about writers block, maybe I should have written about gumleaf :-)Then again next time it happens I will try and find an image of a gumleaf and think about this poem - ::smiles::
Mark

Mark

18 years 10 months ago

hmm Yes indeed

I like it even more the second time around ;-)
Q

Quillsvein1

18 years 10 months ago

this

has an ethereal and troubling quality to it, despite the everyday speech you write with--the ending, in my opinion, makes the poem. to have a reader simply respond with a disarming recognition of the inarticulate is perhaps the best reaction one can generate. great job here
weirdelf

weirdelf

18 years 10 months ago

well put.

When reading live there are 2 sorts of silences at the end of a poem, immediately distinguishable, although I don't know how. One is the oh dear silence, that was so aweful do we boo, leave disceetly or hope for something better, the other is the oh. cheers, Jess
P

Prototype

18 years 10 months ago

You did well in this poem.

One of the things I appreciate in the global web is how the greater distances are shorted. It bind us together. Good poem!
Rottiestyl

Rottiestyl

18 years 10 months ago

Often

when a sudden passion hits and we want to tell the world, we forget that the world begins with one. The real poet knows that. You have proven in this shining piece that you. . .know it. Wonderful and spirit twitching poetry. K. Mulroney
T

to-wit

18 years 9 months ago

the title was good,and

the title was good,and here,was considered an admittance
DK

David Kowalczyk

18 years 9 months ago

Why I Am Not A Poet

I think Brittany Rae's response captures it perfectly. Only real poets doubt their work and their craft, their art and their vocation. Poetasters, on the other hand, simply spew out treacle and tripe without the possibility it may be flawed ever entering their minds. Excellent poem!
RSScheerer

RSScheerer

18 years ago

Perhaps the title

... should have been, Why I Am a Poet .... Today I found a perfectly smooth piece of blue glass in the flower garden as I was working. I held it in my hand and wiped the dirt away, held it up to the sun and watched the way it caught the light. Mesmerized by a simple piece of glass and unable to tell anyone why ... So I say . . . oh my best, Ronda
C

Conect11

17 years 4 months ago

@$#%##!!!!!!

and #$@$#@#$$@~~~#@@! You already used this title?! And I even commented on it?! Like 6 months ago???? I feel sick with unoriginality... Humbly, Mark W.