Poetry stirs me …that is some poetry. It hits me or it does not. Mary Oliver, David Whyte, Yeats, Donne, Emily Dickenson, Robert Frost, …Bob Dylan, Leonard Cohen, Patty Smith, Bokowski, Tom Waits, Amy Mann. George Carlin!! Life is poetry but I must find the poetry in life.

I like the short-story aspect of poetry. My poems tell a lot of my life story. I like the way it can touch or hint without going into great detail. I love the brevity that’s available through it.

I am not a true followers of traditional rhythm, cadence and so on. I like a flow of thought with words that dance off the pages and into my gut, heart, being. I love how for instance Bukowski’s Bluebird dances and resonates inside me. I love how he reads it. In the same way his Don’t Do It tears me apart,

Sweet Crushed Angel by Hafiz seeps and meanders through my veins like a soft chilled glass of grape juice. It lifts and at the same time brings me to my knees. Like A Rolling Stone, Dylan, does a sort of hacking job on me….It throws the book on my childish dreams but it lands quite beautifully! Because I know it’s all true for me. It resonates with me.

IF the poem fits I must not aquit. I must let it soak into me. Let it resonate in a place that’s authentic….Let it mold me, pamper me, shake me up, bring me down a peg or two but please let me not ignore it….A poem that resonates is like a fine meal. IT nourishes and fills in a way nothing can.


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