Charles Bukowski, the real bard of L.A., is my favorite poet...
It is not only his honesty in describing the private hells we each have to go through each day . . . that inspires me
But that he could find poetry anywhere and in anything...
He punctured the pompous and pretentious especially snobby poets full of themselves who could only write for other so called clever poets, turning out convoluted, turgid insular works while ignoring the world at large and essentially real life.
I share his disdain for the snobbish, academic side of poetry.
So in tribute to Bukowski freeing poetry from the snobs . . . I offer a poem of my own called "Backyard Poetry" that is about finding poetry anywhere and everywhere even in a backyard . . . barbecue.
GP
***
BACKYARD POETRY
I despise the
poetry
of exclusion.
It's a stuffy affair
with hearts
bare,
stale,
and
devoid of any real compassion
and passion.
Because many of America's
greatest poets
have never picked up a pen
and composed a single word of poetry.
They
create stirring stanzas
with their
lips and tender kisses,
fingers and caresses,
wild crazy loves
and
adventurous lusts.
They compose poetry
in the tender way they
raise their children,
love their families
and reach out
to the wayward,
broken,
and
forsaken
among us.
They are the living embodiment
of poetry
with acts of loyalty
friendship,
hope,
love
and betrayal.
Broken
wild
verses of
poetry
burst forth
at
backyard barbecues,
family gatherings,
drunken bashes,
holiday celebrations,
in bars,
restaurants,
cafes,
and
coffee shops.
Poetry is heard everywhere
and anywhere where people talk honestly
about their lives.
Their life verses
go many times unheard
unrecognized
even to themselves.
Poetry burns brightly
in their eyes
revealing
unspoken dreams
not yet realized.
George Pappas
Copyright 2008
No comments:
Post a Comment