What is the art or craft which puts together bits
Of broken persona with fragments
Of discontinuous life?
Ah, it is that untimely itch to write something,
Anything, to verify to yourself,
That you once existed,
That you too were sensitive once upon a time
To the Newness and the Now-ness
Of the passing moment,
So sudden and spontaneous.
Like skaters and skiers
Or dancers and divers,
Like the crossword puzzler,
The mate and the joker,
The poets of the day
Are everyone and You,
The gifted amateur.
Inscribed on paper or on marble,
Or in cyber-lore or song,
Words may improvise
A validating beat within life's continuum,
Leaving no figure of its divisions,
Temporal or scanning syllables.
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This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem