Emotion of Disgust
Emotion of Disgust -
by Bob Atkinson
softly settled to my
ears
those words I wished
to hear
brought me to a
higher level
when written well,
so treasured
waiting patiently
among
the throng of
citizens, no guns
a gentle lot of
doers well
those who praise art
and tales
standing up to do
their best
to settle for all
the rest of us
a trumpet sound of
sculpted tones
ones with meaning
held upon
a field of life,
pages open
emotional tags,
sometimes spoken
carry me to advanced
nirvana
please read good
words, not trivia
when they speak
these honored verses
so well received and
prizes awarded
my hand reaches for
the door
so I might escape
these awful chords
no, they don't speak
for me
blank faces in the
audience
form so simply
irrelevant
purpose one's only
good intent
when sung accolades
flow quickly
a million sold six
months a pittance
poetry had come of
age
yet nobody knew or
accepted change
Chandos lamented
openly
no quotes from us,
our poetry
were made outside
our borders
were not champions
of language order
thought about this
for a while
remembered friends
in distant lands
who spoke Germanic
languages different
no English were they
aware of meanings
yet sung our tunes
with impassioned
voices
wildly swinging arms
to chorus
the words meant
nothing to their
minds
but beat with
rythyms to their
hearts timed
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