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Array ( [sid] => 172753 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => The Poet [time] => 2012-05-31 12:39:30 [hometext] => Poem about a poet [bodytext] => The death of a poet who was never heard.
A mystery, the words that were slurred.
He wrote because he could.
And not because he should.
His brain imprinted with rhymes and words that meant so much.
He wrote the words that he wanted write, happiness was in his clutch.
Told that he was crazy, not to be deterred, he battled.
With his mind, his thoughts and anything that stood in his way, as society he rattled.
Pen to paper, but that’s as far as it would go.
Nobody read his poems, no one would ever know.
Remembered when dead as a great.
But slatted when alive, was it worth the wait.
Working into the night, searching for perfection.
Reading back his work and making that vital correction.
No one else might see it, but he does, and what he sees is all that counts.
People might not tell him his works great, but when he goes watch as his popularity mounts.
[comments] => 3 [counter] => 193 [topic] => 43 [informant] => bryantjunior [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )

The Poet

Contributed by bryantjunior on Thursday, 31st May 2012 @ 12:39:30 PM in AEST
Topic: oops

The death of a poet who was never heard.
A mystery, the words that were slurred.
He wrote because he could.
And not because he should.
His brain imprinted with rhymes and words that meant so much.
He wrote the words that he wanted write, happiness was in his clutch.
Told that he was crazy, not to be deterred, he battled.
With his mind, his thoughts and anything that stood in his way, as society he rattled.
Pen to paper, but that’s as far as it would go.
Nobody read his poems, no one would ever know.
Remembered when dead as a great.
But slatted when alive, was it worth the wait.
Working into the night, searching for perfection.
Reading back his work and making that vital correction.
No one else might see it, but he does, and what he sees is all that counts.
People might not tell him his works great, but when he goes watch as his popularity mounts.

Copyright Â© bryantjunior ... [ 2012-05-31 12:39:30]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: The Poet (User Rating: 1 )
by MissTeenSuicide on Thursday, 31st May 2012 @ 02:53:36 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

Its crappy that a lot of artists or geniuses in general who don't go for the whole mainstream thing aren't appreciated until they are dead... I don't get people.
Great write!

Re: The Poet (User Rating: 1 )
by richard2 on Thursday, 31st May 2012 @ 05:21:44 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

the finest advice I ever received was from a friend who said' do not copy style, be yourself, your gift will'
survive not being Frost, or Eliot, or any of the other'
greats, be yourself, you may not be great but you will be real, your voice your own. That's what this poem
is about I think,

Re: The Poet (User Rating: 1 )
by Puppy_dog_eyes on Saturday, 2nd June 2012 @ 04:47:37 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

I think this is often the case with art in general, it is only when you are lost to the world and can no longer give that work that people stand back and appreciate what you were and what you really brought to the world.
Good write

Steve

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