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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required 18 Stoic Faces - by Bob Atkinson eighteen stoic faces faced four who had come to read the erudite refrains of poets both dead and gone readings were in earnest spoken for respect for some who had garnered from the establishment accolades, awards, well sanctioned yes, eighteen stoic faces faced four who read so good those meaningless diatribes of useless linguistic words significance became not evident for similes provided here metaphors vaguely crafted caused me not them to revere this didn't change my attitude my demeanor didn't rise waiting for an end to it was my only real desire so I couldn't clap and whistle and be smiling in my face that would not have been sincere became just a little bit ashamed whistle I didn't do at all felt not much real emotion gave a polite nod to those speaking headed quickly out the door save me from disjointed thoughts can't those people see the truth senseless disorganization does not good poetry produce of those thoughts not poetry I firmly do believe the fireplace requires cellulose for bright flames to feed listless words written poorly carried my imagination not was frozen in my dreamy state rusted any worthwhile thoughts next week went to Vegas to see the eagle band and watch as pure emotion rocked that audience grand ten thousand had paid apiece a couple hundred bucks to see those wordly masters like Henley, Frey and such they told of the situation which emotion played upon a woman's real life choices why she'd become despondent ten thousand cheered upon recognition of great words displayed while coddled with sounds soft guitars and drums beat purrs I thought "now here lies real poetry" not those prissy kind of words that speak only of the unimportant with wispy mindless verbs some lock credentials grand for that which moves us not and laugh at the suggestion that song is our greatest art me, I have a vision that we shall all enjoy songs we've grown up with as emotional literal tomes
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