The Poets

[Steven]

Went to a poetry reading
There was one poet
A skillful one
That read
A poem
That he said
Was about
Something
That happened
It
Was unspeakable
Really
But for
His writing and reading it
And I kind of knew
Something was coming
And
That it wasn't going to be pretty
Because another poet
Who knew this
Poet
And that poem
And what happened
Got up to go to the bathroom
To miss it
Which was nice timing
Because she had to go anyway
She said
But I didn't know
And I breathed through
This guy's poem
And experience
It enveloped us
In what happened
And
I thought
This will be over
Soon
And this is probably
Helpful to the poet
And that
Life
Is difficult enough
Without being subjected
To this
And
Now I wonder
If I will go back
To those poets
Gazers sometimes
Wind up in the rubble
Of crashes
They can't help but see.

Copyright 2008 by me, the author, under my legal name. All rights reserved.

[Sideways]

this is a fun piece with nice pace, but maybe you could replace the cliché in these lines "he wielded his poem
Like a scalpel" and also "train wreck gazer". I don't think the rhythm of your poem demands striking replacements but for me when I meet such unoriginality it slows down the fun and spoils the overall effect

Sue

[Steven]

Sideways, can't argue with your observations about the cliches. I've made
some edits to it based on what you've said. Thanks. It's late and I may
revisit it again when less tired.

[mat james]

Gazers sometimes
Wind up in the rubble
Of crashes
They can't help but see.

Hi Steven,

These lines above seem to be the essence of your poem.
Poets are often negative
Very few poets take us high;
and that is the beauty of Leonard Cohen for me,
He always leaves me smilingly beguiled.

Matj

[daka]

Hello Steve

I second Sue's nicely presented compliment.... 'fun' and 'nice pace'.

I enjoyed this poem very much for a few reasons. It made me feel like I was traveling and experiencing the shock of a horrid experience, analogous to a crash (maybe a train crash) but without the horror, which, cleverly, is only alluded to. Your closing lines also captured a personal life observation that I rarely even discuss with people but observe quite often:

Gazers sometimes
Wind up in the rubble
Of crashes
They can't help but see.

This also has a spiritual significance for me, being a Buddhist, as it describes the process of uncontrollable 'karma' unfolding. If one believes in karma strongly enough one's whole life can be experienced as a 3D movie unfolding.

The style of you poem interests me greatly because I am naturally drawn to writing some poems in that style, often in emails, letters, or general forum postings, as there is less demand for rhyme. I have never studied poetry so I would like to know what that style is called. Maybe you might know Sue? I like it very much. I think one thing I like about the style is that it seems rebellious and this appeals to my Irishness.

AGT

Sean

[Steven]

Hi Mat,

Thanks for commenting. I'm going to strive for some poems that
leave people "smilingly beguiled."

[Steven]

Hi Sean (Daka),

Thanks for the comments.

About your personal observation, you know that Buddhists vary in the degree of
life engagement (association) Vs. separation (dissociation), analogous to watching the
movie Vs. participating in the movie (stepping into the screen, if you will). And it's not
just Buddhists, Christians vary in how they respond to the dictate that they are
"not of this world." And Jews have through various walls of religious distinction and
separation done this too (when there was a choice in the matter). And in and out of the spiritual/religious interpretations and practice, there are psychological reasons to step into and out of the pictures, you know. Sometimes doing so is adaptive. Sometimes not.
No debate on this, my friend, Sean, but thought it worth saying, though it's certainly
something you've already considered.