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Farewell For Now, Poetry Soup

The soup has spilled
boiling hot
into my lap.

Howl upon howl
cools nothing.

I must go
and leave an empty bowl

where it lies on the floor.

angstpoetsi do not know?

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Richard Lamoureux

September 27, 2019 at 10:27 AM

Occasionally I come across a poet like you who I feel is an under appreciated talent. I am glad you won in Regina’s contest. It allowed me to discover a sparkling gem. Although you might not recognize it, God has already blessed you with talent.

Jack Webster

September 27, 2019 at 10:36 AM

Glad you like my work. As far as God and talent goes, what little pleasing skill I have in the eyes of the few that see it was all won through devoted and enthusiastic study and observation of favorite poets. To say simply it was someone’s God’s gift to give really sets it up as that deity favoring some and not others, and gives the idea others don’t have the same potential. Poetry is like any language; fluency requires a body to learn from, and body to speak with, dedication, and the willingness to let the language be the language instead of reinventing it for the sake of one’s own ease

Darlene De Beaulieu

March 27, 2019 at 1:40 PM

Hello Jack Webster, yes that is where the empty bowl would be on the floor,after the soup spills from the bowl.Have a nice day my friend.So nice to meet you Jack Webster.

Farewell For Now, Poetry Soup

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