Well I don't know but I've been told
poets are made of coal and gold.
Some of us swing a big bold hammer
some of us crawl and speak with a stammer.
I know poets who are quite refined
and those who bark and spit and grind.

They come from mountains bright and high
from muddy swamps and deserts dry.
Some poets think and talk in rhyme
some sow their stanzas out of time.
Many are spiritual and religious
some are skeptics with wounds prodigious.

They are romantic and filled with love
but they are prone to push and shove.
I know poets who are noble and prophetic
and those who are funny, depressed or pathetic.
We're sure that heaven's for the brave
and wonder what looms beyond the grave.

Poets are full of vision and conviction
fear and loathing and contradiction.
When will this poet's cadence end?
Now... but listen.. we're in the wind.

08/07/2012

Author's Note: Author's Note: This poem was "performed" by the gathered group at the August 6, 2012 meeting of Poetry in Progress, DeSoto, TX. It is dedicated to Amanda I. Clay and inspired by her poem A Soldier's Soul

Posted on 08/07/2012
Copyright © 2025 Glenn Currier