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The Poet

It’s the hard edge that makes it real
The grittiness that makes you feel
The bitterness really comes across
And makes you feel the poets’ loss

He’s a tortured man, a lonely man
A man for whom nothing fits in place
His books and his words are everything
I’ve seen them write sunshine on his face

For in the world of normal men
He moves without a trace
But when he reads on a Thursday night
It’s with aplomb and grace

It brightens up the drab, grey life
He lives from day today
When words leap from page to tongue
And explode upon the listeners

This is what his life is all about
This is what makes him tick
Not his job on the factory line
That crushes his soul and wastes his time

But this, this poetry in his soul
This wonder at lives rich hue
That burns in the hearts of us
That would listen to, the poet

(c) PETER SEMPLE 2009. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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Comment by Bobby Z on January 20, 2010 at 11:51pm
depressing but true. guess theres sum hope out there and of course the true poet wouldnt be afraid to feel how bad things reaaly are and then attempt to be positive somewhat in the midst of all the mad ,bad shit, ewh ah
Comment by Peter Jarvie Semple on September 9, 2009 at 4:39am
Thanks Brian, Glad to be aboard.
All the best,
Peter
Comment by Brian Allossery on September 8, 2009 at 12:25pm
I agree- Welcome to the Lazy Poets Peter-

Brian
Toronto

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