loved
By loved, 19 July, 2012
weirdelf

Did you ever see the movie "Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb"?

The insane general extols the theory that we waste our precious bodily fluids, the same might be said of writing endless meaningless poetry, and be equally wrong.

Who knows?

loved

who am I ?
never ...
I love you as a poetic general ever
and always.....
if you like my work
I feel like flying in heaven
and how i wish i could swim too
but get breathless
like whilst composing poetry
for all of you..hahaahahaaaaaaaaaaa

loved

loved

12 years 9 months ago

the world will be
poorer without you
the founder member of neo
and
I assure myself
no one will ever take your place ever
you are the best critique by far....
the only one
who sees the nuances
but damn cares who the poet may be ....
over decades now i have been swimming
in shallow streams
to be elevated as a poet
I always dream
some day perhaps
someone will lay a wreath
and say
here lies a poet under rose’s reef

weirdelf

why do you need laurels?
Is it not enough to be a poet?
We know that none of us will make a fortune, most of us will never be read outside Neopoet or the internet, just to be heard is all I ask. Fame? Why? To me fame would take away from someone else, perhaps equally or more worthy but maybe with less self-promotional drive.

But then again I am a left-wing anarchist ratbag. I would just prefer that you let your poetry speak, without having to push it into other people's faces.

loved

do you think on all sites
I traverse in my anonymity
donating a few cents they throw at me

It's just a matter of poetry expression
I have read a few poems of Greater men ...Nobels ..
and
many of anonymous ones
who surpass the known ones

We walk this way but once ,
I am second to none ,
but like any other soul
I too will walk away
before anyone of you
and
even then you will never know
Loved!
Who?

two things about Loved

one ought to know ...
first
when one does compose
the mind itself does expose

and
second
when one ie another one
is read loved's mind is dead
and
face is red
with dread

foolish you
dumb guy
can't you see the open fly
the mind's eye
the metaphor ..
the refrain
the disdain ...
finally the pouring rain
and
now as you explain
the heat does all poets drain..

me too equally
and you?????