Rural Oklahoma Museum of Poetry
Poetry of the People
Stone walls and the shouting of men
Flibberty flibberty flibberty
Into this starved air
Bells thudding hollow cracking
He is waiting
She is sure
Low rumbling dogs unsure
Paws clicking fish bones
Flibberty
Coming back
Place of never was Continue reading “Morgeuse Without Silence”
One of the reasons poetry hooked me at an early age was because I admired its efficiency with words. People talk too much. They write too much, text too much, listen to too many other people talking, watch too much TV with people talking. Talk. Talk. Talk. Words get cheap. Poetry tries to help them keep their value.
My recent European tour reminded me of this. I found, however, that hearing people talk too much in a foreign language was not nearly as irritating as hearing it in English. I could imagine that what was being said was of more import and occasioned by the sublime. I could imagine that, at least. Fact was, the same kind of chatter was probably going on. Continue reading “People Talk Too Much”
Always with the words, always with the pen,
Always with the fingers upon the keyboard,
Always with the thoughts, always with the clang
Of time on the kettle on the stove, always
With the conversation held back, always with calls
Across rooms deserted and full, always with
The nonsense of rain in the background to enter Continue reading “Always With”
Rural Oklahoma Museum of Poetry 