If you are reading this you are most likely alive.
a poem reader…….
a contemporary……….
I prefer reading poems from hearts still beating
words with organic life
with love still alight or bitterly lost
from parents who still kiss fresh bruises
verses written by hands still warm.
I can inquire the meaning of cryptic symbols
praise well turned words
describe my appreciation of a moving verse.
The poem lives with the breathing poet
as current as the damp saliva of a fresh kiss.
Dusty classics have their value,
but the cobwebs of old ideas grow cumbersome.
The time comes when the thees, thous, and wherefores must cease.
Like archaic relics of books never checked out of the library,
or old grave markers misunderstood by the new culture.
I’ll choose the present day poets over their grandfathers.
Forward to future poems, not yet penned, I anticipate
written for today, to carry forward to the future.
Please excuse the irony.……
If, you come across this poem…..after I am dead!
Mirror, Mirror on the wall..
Secrets told, to enthrall.
If walls could talk of stories foretold.
The truth and lies, of the young and the old.
Creaky floors, heave a sigh.
In the purlieu, where feet danced spry.
Doors held on by rusted hinges.
Swung open and closed through the ages.
Cobwebs interstice between unknown entities.
Invaders tip toe; the enemy retrieves its bounty.
Closets full of untold skeletons.
Of ambiguous answers of their wantons.
Cracks finger up and down, the old white ceilings.
Weathering takes its toll around the old dwelling.
The eyes of the house have seen many things.
Through the decades of beatings and blessings.
Dust has settled upon the dilapidated edifice.
Waiting to be reintroduced and resurrected.
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.