J. E. Carpenter
On Li-young Lee and Poetry as the Dying Breath Medium
I am here and I am silent.
And wondering if true
that poets write about love
so that they can write about death
And is each exhale death?
Do people die on inhales?
And why is the wise child sad?
And why when I decided to be happy.
I could not write poetry.
I could write poetry.
I did not write poetry.
He hesitates to raise his voice.
He raises the mic instead.
He has made his life in thinking
I have made mine in avoiding it
Look how he stands awkwardly on stage
He did not expect by being direct that he would come to this
I even wonder if he wanted this fame, renown, people seeking his autograph
On his words
And I’d pay to see him
Because I am not strong
My weakness begs me sit silent
in a crowd and watch as the universe
stirs others to song.
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Comments about this poem (On Li-young Lee and Poetry as the Dying Breath Medium by J. E. Carpenter )
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
- Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(30 December 1865 – 18 January 1936)
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