Sunday, January 27, 2013

Poemwriter by Bob Atkinson

(c)2013 Bob Atkinson
he gazed up to the sunset
saw much beauty past his stare
said "some words describe my feelings
some words engage in puffing air"

two groups, both his and theirs
look differently at the sky's blue color
it's pretty nice up there he thought
they thought it's a world umbrella

I say different terms than you
you fellas with your arrogance
imagined puffs of smoke depict
egos flaring quite inelegant

language opens up mental visions
reflections of what's felt without touch
by twisting images of life into
willow trees and cool flowing brooks

so much for true opinion
many hide truth behind coat tails
a broad community exists
which allows its language to impale

stabbed through without emotion
only descriptions trite and common
should talk openly 'bout emotion
pretense kills quickly that good notion

those exploits we write of such
I write this way, you write that
don't accept me in your club while
I don't like hackneyed pitter patter

wasn't that my life was different
tone same as with our friends
young and wild, strong willed
most deliberately inconsequential

sometimes out of bounds
we grew up in the same society
did exactly as they've done
full of recklessness plus abandon

did my thing by runnin' 'round
searching for my own path
yet, when it came to growing up
how quickly, didn't matter

my path veered from the rest
believed the good in me could live
beyond objective circumstance
approached it all so glib

when I wrote my feelings down
my story differed from all others
described exactly what I thought
they described what filled their coffins

there again, wasn't so remote as
not to see beauty of a pale blue sky
was simply putting passion
beyond my life described

convergence of emotions amplified
wanted them to feel strength
saw the same things you'd done
impart happiness within

I'm not made for pretentious drawl
trite phrases appear a dung wall

many, many, events shone brightly
when words expressed them mightily

in that sphere which I watched
many applications demanded
language describe that lot of fools
who thought me not fantastic

going on in life
gathered it in a bunch
tried to apply what I learned
without sounding like your pop

belonged to a minority outside
who inhaled a deep belief in progress
mind carved world of a future which
few could document without lusting

as they preferred merely to observe
viewed the world as multi-leveled
not owned by one large crowd
tried to write a document of restriction

restriction of the solid force
that makes us who we are
that part of us not predictable
that part not a great farce

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