I first published this poem in 2009 in my book entitled 'Avant Garde Poetry Chapbook'. At the time, I was on holiday in Ireland.
Honesty presides in these fresh sonnets Where breathing seeks to set example For future generations on thresholds Of honest wit staying apt and ample Poets questioning meaning in long life While judging and evoking honesty They hold themselves above impending strife And espouse flamboyant ideas-majesty Honesty leads the art of poetry For a poem swallows up the reader Engulfing him with central bardolatry Wise words breathe an eternal breeder If poets just stopped phony contrasting Perhaps poems would thrive everlasting How does a new poem live forever? Let me count the ways poems purify Through female free-form and virile villanelle If only they knew to demystify Poetry that writes to catch attention He did not get from his early childhood A quiet child worthy of mention Whose poems represented brotherhood Reactions of interconnectedness reign Sultry sounds stream to entice sentiments A hope that senses will linger the same That baby poems do dance like Bacchants That the earth-bard could only smash thoughts, too, So his poem would dance dreamily inside you From the heart blooms colorful rose bouquets Surrounded, a sweet seizure flutters upright In gushing, garrulous melodic phrase Made to fit undying spiritual rite Hearts merge and hands do as faint souls entreat Fragments of glass in the chapel's skylight Form and message merge on rustic countryseats Bucolic grazing land's tearful twilight Poetry overwhelms overt outcasts On journeys into the poet's caves A mysterious abyss of absinthe Pathways crossing upward to vivid waves Where, at last, souls meet to exchange nepenthe That simply symbolizes completeness In every illustrious, starry sweetness Poetry is breath To us bequeath!
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