As for me
(I cannot speak for others)
to write a poem
is to seek to describe with words
that which I cannot put to words
That has no voice, no name, no substance
and is sensed more than seen
that lingers round the edges
behind the shadows
beneath the leaves
Words can only hint
what takes my breath away
what makes my heart beat faster
or soothes my soul
or causes me to rage
To sigh
to laugh
to stillness
when pondering my mortality
watching a spider weave its web
Poets are peaceful anarchists
eschewing rules and order
to paint pictures with word brushes
strum melodies with space and meter and syntax
who believe in science in the daytime
and magic in the night
And poetry
poetry is the taste of brown sugar
atop barely warm gruel
Marv Himmel
March 24, 2016 ©