My White Rabbit
I like beer, pizza, and poetry.
And those mysterious rabbit holes.
Poetry is to life
what hearing is to sound,
what thunder is to lightning, what love is
what sex is to love,
what water is to thirst.
I like dark beer, such poems
I love to hear. Poetry
is to me what color is to art.
It’s the butter
upon life’s devolving bread.
Poetry is to life as dreams
are to sleep, like light is for day,
poetry is rain ending a drought.
Life and poetry, infinity woven
together like two heads for sister.
A poem is my White Rabbit.
Life without poetry is sad,
dysfunctional and ignorant,
like breathing without air.
It lacks reason and purpose.
Poetry is as human as skin,
as thoughtful as mind, it goes
deep – beyond any abyss.
No culture is without poems.
The poem-less are like sailors
without songs or sirens,
poetry is a beacon for living,
it’s an eternity for the dead.
Not every poem is perfect, but poetry is
the ancient sound of a beautiful gift
waiting at the core of a newborn,
as the eye of a painter or a touch
of the sculptor forms art,
the words of the poets
are the pipes and drums of humanity.
Look both ways.
Be skeptical of all you see but shed foolish ignorance as soon as you smell it.
Mind the gaps. They didn’t put themselves there.
And this, just cuz I can…