I admire great poets old,
perusing the tragic ends.
Researching their writing styles and patterns
their layouts, rhyming, punctuation, moods,
in dark solitude they penned dreadful words.
Many, end by suicide,
others of drug addiction.
John Berryman threw himself off a bridge,
Weldon Kees, disappeared into nowhere,
Rupert Brooke, he died at twenty-seven.
Some living a good long life,
with a death due to old age.
Merwin had a childhood full of sadness,
but he found his Zen in nature writing,
he explained his style as an open form.
Abraham Klein, a recluse
he lapsed into a silence.
Called, one of Canada's greatest writers,
here is one that published at eight years,
Wilber, he lasted to ninety-six and wrote.
I admire great poets old,
perusing the tragic ends.
_________________________
March 7, 2018
Poetry/Blank Verse/Old Poets Dead
Copyright Protected, ID 18-1001-977-01
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, Seven-Ten
sponsor, Emile Pinet
First Place
Categories:
berryman, old, poets,
Form: Blank verse
Drunk and exhausted, he waved to the onlookers,
And threw himself from the bridge, tired of living through
The suicides of poets and writers,
Tired of cheating women, of religion,
Of marriage, of talking to himself –
Weirdly on wings, and with maximum pain,
He waved to the onlookers,
Leaving his poems to terrify and comfort
While the critics said:
’’They are so tearfull! So funny.
His poetry is the mixture
Of crankiness, brilliance, and cruelty.’’
Weirdly on wings and with maximum pain,
He waved to the onlookers,
And joined his father
And maybe, just maybe
He forgave him.
Categories:
berryman, sad,
Form: Narrative