Day 14 prompt: write a poem that deals with the poems, poets, and other people who inspired me to write poems.
Dad never encouraged me to anything but obedience,
yet he knew funny limericks that made me blush
and he sang like George Burns, not quite as well.
O, the battles he lost.
Sister Mary Something Awful believed in god
and memorizing to exercise my brain like a muscle.
Walt Whitman’s O Captain! My Captain!
O, the battles she lost.
We committed it to memory, like a prayer,
in some later years of elementary school,
something I shall never forget.
O, the battles I lost.
Robin Williams’ emotionally charged role
in Dead Poets Society, the movie and final scene
woke sleeping poets buried deep inside me.
O, the battles we fought.
To my insistent denial, Sue said yes you can
while others saw poetics hidden within my prose,
as I read the confessions of closet poets.
O, the battles turned, still hidden.
When muse passed me a parachute, I jumped
and discovered endless fields of sounds,
words, and beats to claim as my own.
O, joy, the battle done,
when I stopped fighting,
the prize I sought was won.
To look both ways I must turn my head and see.
Mind the gaps for their good intentions.