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Now everyone's a poet

Contributed by Tzeck on Sunday, 24th November 2013 @ 11:53:01 PM in AEST
Topic: poets



Now everyone’s a poet…

Century and a half has passed
since the last mechanic
threw away the hammer,
grabbed a pen
and wrote a poem –
something for:
a glass,
botanic craft,
a hen
and other clamor…

Now everyone’s a poet.

And every word’s a verse,
every sigh is fighting windmills,
every scream’s creating universes,
every look is hanging lazy thrills.

Every!

Maw.
Fore-tooth.
Gastric juice.
Everybody chewed Someone.
Boom!
For good.

And there we go, every one’s a poet!

Yes! Century and a half has passed
since the last mechanic
threw away the hammer,
grabbed a pen
and wrote a poem.

I wonder: Couldn’t someone stop him!?
For heaven’s sake!
Someone –
no matter bright or dim!

But it’s too late already.

The mechanics started writing petrol sonnets
and left the hammers
to the poets
who furiously pounded
on the dried out meanings of the words
until there was no finger left uncrushed.

The last whole one
right before turning to salt
was middle…

Crunched once in no-meaning and shut mute…

… now everyone’s a poet.



Tzeck, PLEASE: To help keep this site INTERACTIVE, please read and comment on at least 3 poems by our other authors for each one you submit.





Copyright © Tzeck ... [ 2013-11-24 23:53:01]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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Re: Now everyone's a poet (User Rating: 1 )
by iodinelove on Tuesday, 26th November 2013 @ 12:35:18 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
I had a friend once tell me that he didn't find the need for poetry what with photography and painting. He said, what use are words?

Well, only everything.

Poetry is not only about a certain coupling of words. Anyone can do that. It's about using the words to bridge the gap between us. The words are the foundation. It is what is not said that is the key.


Re: Now everyone's a poet (User Rating: 1 )
by saramic on Saturday, 4th January 2014 @ 06:45:39 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
No blow lost in translation - this poem strikes hard, hammers home the point - but without laboring it.

The words chip away at the peeling artex of bad poetry - with great dexterity!

''The mechanics started writing petrol sonnets
and left the hammers
to the poets
who furiously pounded
on the dried out meanings of the words
until there was no finger left uncrushed.'' Smashing lines! “zdrasti”!




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