Monday, March 11, 2013

The Poet, The Poet by Bob Atkinson

The Poet, The Poet
(c)2013 Bob Atkinson

fly farther without wings
in this atmosphere, so turbulent
of mental distinctions created by
that air of poet's mumblings

words describe my time on earth
with those related or diverse
hollow points, no firm form
muddy shadows establishing norm

give me now that advantage
over rough competition's cackle
so I may have the perfect insight
into what others think of life

that tool father used to teach
what delineated men from beasts
thought from actions primitive
bearing unclear abstracted love

send me now toward that place
where I shall enter knowledge gate
looking around with knowing eye
all those complex reasons why

factors cause disasters quaking
or normal historic events, man made
combined with human emotions
embellished reality, imagination's tokens

shower my tales with garden pails
over and above the season's gale
show minds in their primitive form
elastic statements of true abnormal

carry me off to strange places
do it with that style I crave
give me power to imagine myself
as one of importance to the game

the poet, the poet, the poet
strong where I am weak of mind
smart where I'm deficient in life
where I am crude, so forgiving

show me identity in your words
accept me now into your world
swallow me into that void of dust
where I can build my soul of lust

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