Michael Shepherd Poetry Poems

and right now, I’m spending most of my time
on the two matters of which I seem to know the least –
love; and poetry.
...

As one of the wrinkly-crumblies
-W.A.S.P. without the sting -
it puzzles me: in poetry,
does one good **** really deserve another?
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Every day, the sun sets
you noticed?
in a great, glorious performance
of wraparound scenic splendour
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A deep breath; a sigh.. as if
you didn’t accuse yourself of this
every time you write a poem and
hoping to pretend it’s ‘ stretching
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My library door’s still open
with its invitations and its promises

and empty shelves waiting to be filled
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This poem is no more.
It has ceased to be.
It's expired and gone to meet its maker.
This is a late poem...
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When I was very young,
Poetry
was written by
AA Milne.
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'Naff' comes back as 'cutting-edge'...
though dogs may have their day,
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When that strange stirring to a poem comes -
half-heard, half-formed, some seed deep in the mind -
the heart lights up, so eager to explore
the unknown path that listening may find:
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Apologies, folks
for slipping this one in
under the guise of a poem
but isn't it great
...

and there was the knocking on the door
that we were expecting
and it was the man
that we were expecting
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This is the illicit still of poetry
half hidden in the dry ditch beyond the hedge
firewater drunk from an old tin mug
it takes the skin off your throat
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Weary with the day,
it called to me

as if someone said, here…
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Has music gone from poetry?
Words and music, still agree?
Dance and rhythm, song and laughter,
Do they echo, now, hereafter..?
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Zeke Snirer.
he’s young. ish.
he’s got something to offer the world:
he’s the best judge of poetry. ever.
...

The famous Poet Laureate
of North Dakota State
has been suspended on full pay
just because one merry day
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To coin a metaphor:

It's like a Protestant
wandering into a Catholic church
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Pithy, precise,
wry, wise,
flinty, real,
democratic,
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and yes, since we can all dream
some other life – but do not, cannot,
dream its divergences, its accidents,
its departures and arrivals,
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It’s like an adult version of a parlour game, isn’t it?
a sorta cross between a single-handed game of patience
and a crossword puzzle where the guy who set the puzzle
is always a step at least ahead of you dammit
...

Wonder
is a philosopher
is a poet
looks with awe
...

So often, poets
with their poetic eyes,
ears, minds, hearts, souls,
record actions that
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You’re two-thirds the way through.
The corners of their mouths are turning down.
Their eyes are filming over.
Their shoulders are stiffening.
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Ladies and Gentlemen,
this is my first poetry reading
and I’m very nervous
and nearly cancelled tonight
...

Two o’clock on a quiet afternoon,
and the class file in for their poetry ‘hour’,
brief daily slot in the packed week’s course in many things.
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To make of every poem
a challenge; face with joy an
honourable failure; blaze
with glorious sadness:
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O Muse…

I have a serious question for you
but I can’t wait to put it into beautiful poetry.
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It could be tomorrow.
Or the day after.
The important thing will be
that you’ll know when it happens that
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The poet means
what the poet said;
look for the 'meaning'
and the poem's dead.
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On the cover
of those old black hymnbooks
in those old dark churches
you can just about read
...

Dear Ms Dickinson: I’ve just received
your amusing little trifle,
'Faith is a fine invention'
as your first week's homework on this course..
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2B /, not

? ? ?
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Words, they ‘mean’ – just, what they do;
and a poem means – just what it does;
if it doesn’t do a single thing for you –
that’s it, for now; let’s cut the fuzz…
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OK you’ve written 2000 crap poems you say.
Now pack up this arithmetical stuff:

there’s an algebra to poetry:
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Has music gone from poetry?
Words and music, still agree?
Dance and rhythm, song and laughter,
Do they echo, now, hereafter..?
...

Poetry is like bread – daily bread,
like ‘Irish’ soda bread, best eaten on its day:

In the bakery of the heart and mind,
...

The brain and spinal cord
contain a hundred billion neuron cells
backed up by many more glial cells..
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Is the whole of Canada
supporting itself by the export
of Viagra and such? And how
did they get my email address
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many ways
on Sattwadays
in which to praise
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Not a true poem, to former minds;
but a poem that remembers truth;

not a good poem, to former minds;
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Do you see life
through prose-coloured spectacles?

or has the squid of poetry
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But is it an activity for
grown men and women?

A kind of stocktaking:
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Be solitary.
Love solitude, and don’t look for poetry;
don’t seek what former poets sought;
see what is still and changeless;
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