Monday morning, February 11,2019 at 10: 35 a.m.
What is poetry?Is the reader listening
to an imaginary discourse in a disembodied
voice, an alchemy in words?The truth gainsaid?
Might the reader want more, the poet to declare,
a declaration that is truth in the poverty of its words
to reflect upon?A speaker speaking more to the point,
using real words in real settings, one verse at a time,
one verse running onto the next, extending the meaning,
showing us a route, a way to the poem's vital end?
Some small truth?Poet, give us this or give us nothing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice write. It rings of truth. Enjoyed immensely.
Frank, glad you liked it. It took awhile to write. You might like the poetry of George Oppen (1908-1999) who often writes on the same subject, better than I.