Seeking Profundity - Poem by mike ruthenbeck
For you now, the final following act
At least, until my now-self departing,
Patiently finding the words with most tact,
Cogitating on the coarse here charting
Before you now, more modern than Browning
Yet no more modern than his thesaurus
Inside Shakespearian sonnets drowning
Mozart conducting the angels in chorus
'The company here, ' smiles old Herr Von Goethe,
'Will leave you feeling at times almost Zen!
In proposing there is life after death,
I propose you spend more time with a pen! '
In writing the words you are humming,
Even Tennyson's nose starts to thumbing!
A spark of hope in our Lord Byron's eyes
Perhaps perceiving way back in our past
With critic's words being always unwise
Any attempt is attempt unsurpassed!
And now before me my life's duty lay
In hopes of standing one day before Joyce
Writing until my new writings replay
Questing in the observational voice
No excuse is condoning desisting
Wrote Verne and Dickens not so long ago
Rather on reading the were insisting
My building the modern sonnet chateau
So the nose of the schooled begins twitching
With every syllable I am stitching
Coercing a more humble demeanor
In behavior applies easier than writ
Like drinking your coffee without creamer
That on happen-stance you'd rather omit
But the torch to bear! the truth to be told!
I've never seen a more un-content bunch!
Proactively seeking to be controlled
Breaking for only a half hour's lunch
Hawthorne and Milton alone on the shelf
Picked up by only the strangest of lads
They and their peers cry out, 'Go help yourself! '
While modern scripting cries, 'Follow your fads! '
In ones mind the Philosophers leaven
brings one closer and closer to heaven
So go forth and read and write with passion
Never minding works of critic's under
Fighting till death majority's fashion
Find in your voice the sound of your wonder
Soon I will die, both buried, forgotten;
Than your's is the final following act
All our words may appear misbegotten
Depending on how the critic's react
But keep this in mind most importantly
Should all of our works be despised, hated;
Long as my lips cry 'Non-conformity! '
A small audience I will have baited
Taking the time to write a creation
Find ease among this tiny vocation
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