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I Close The Lid On The Poet's Coffin
If you are reading this you are most likely alive.
a poem reader…….
a contemporary……….
I prefer reading poems from hearts still beating
words with organic life
with love still alight or bitterly lost
from parents who still kiss fresh bruises
verses written by hands still warm.
I can inquire the meaning of cryptic symbols
praise well turned words
describe my appreciation of a moving verse.
The poem lives with the breathing poet
as current as the damp saliva of a fresh kiss.
Dusty classics have their value,
but the cobwebs of old ideas grow cumbersome.
The time comes when the thees, thous, and wherefores must cease.
Like archaic relics of books never checked out of the library,
or old grave markers misunderstood by the new culture.
I’ll choose the present day poets over their grandfathers.
Forward to future poems, not yet penned, I anticipate
written for today, to carry forward to the future.
Please excuse the irony.……
If, you come across this poem…..after I am dead!
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