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Poem

Inspired by “Poems and Poets” by Anne Winter

“For once in my life,
I want to be a poem” — Anne Winter


If I were a poem
could my poem be a poet?
If such could be done
who besides me would know it?

If my poem—as a poet—wrote something new
could I as a poem be the other poem too?
Or would I simply exist on a document list
along with other poems that coexist?

(As a poem I would be …)

Living on the edge of poetry forms’ parameters
Running ever changing rapids of trochees and iambs
Line dancing varied rhythms of iambic pentameters
da DUM da DUM da DUM da DUM da DUM ad infinitum

Dancing two-step footles with the poem of my dreams
Braving slalom ski runs of Klein’s Vase Verse 
Climbing lofty peaks of Heroic Crown of Crowns 
Then doing it all over again in reverse

(I do have a poetic license you know …)

I think of such thoughts from time to time
when my muse is confused and obtuse
Especially when finding it hard to rhyme
my head flooded with thoughts most abstruse

What would it take for me to be a poem
vice versa my poem to be poet?
The very next time my muse starts to roam 
I’ll try to find out—don’t you know it!

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