The Critic
I am not a man who loves superficially
When I eat a poem
I peel it skinless with my teeth
Bite and suck the juicy pulp
Lick the seed white before planting it again
I am the lion eating its meat
Don't ask me to gloat on dross
To secure the favor of popularity
Poetry is a sacred gift
Upon my altar it is a sacrifice of totality.
Melt, melt, melt into it
Ice into the ocean blue
Light into sky
Love into you
And let us sip and feast on words together.
Copyright © L'Nass Shango | Year Posted 2010
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment