When a poem is truly memorized
A drone of confidence sees all its lines at once
In ripest old age
As the big sleep draws near
I become a morning person-
Six hours in high gear
To calm my neurotic fears of losing things, key, glasses, etc., I buy lots of backups.
Now I fear bankruptcy.
If neither plan A or plan B work, skip C and go straight to plan Desperate.
They say haste makes waste
But even with spilling the milk
Sliding into the ditch
And visiting ER
Haste still gets me there first
Now
Is the sum of the past
Minus the future
I stood on the shoulders of Renaissance man
I told him he’s not in compliance.
He set me back down- went off like a rocket
I hear now of rockets he’s learning the science
As our bodies are mostly of water-
A river between sorrow and joy there
Trace the source to the top of Mount Joy
Avoiding the whirlpool despair
The future should never be forced
But entered serenely, all craziness shorn
Don't pass the door with smashed teacups
Dangling from each of your horns
The mania burning our mind
The obsession that's conquered our heart-
Once we have sifted the ashes
Will be less than the sum of its parts
The pilgrims on the journey
Drop chips into the stream
Are they making progress
Or is it just a dream
Love the new poetic format! But you knew I would. My fav this week:
ReplyDeleteWhen a poem is truly memorized
A drone of confidence sees all its lines at once"
I have had a smattering of this feeling with "The One," although my little gray cells are too antique to manage much of it. I can comfort myself by saying, " It is the message and the narrative that bring the poem home, not how many words are remembered. There. I feel relieved!