Why Do You Write Poem


“Why do you do that,

Why do you write these poems?”,

she said as she put her smokes on the table.

I don’t know

I don’t remember starting things.

So why do you continue

you blogger you,

putting your words among these billions of other words

from people like you,

pouring out their lives like salt,

salt which others will sweep away.

Why do you do this anononymous thing, this

insignificant scribbling of

chipmunks on a log?

Because the keyboard is there.

Why does someone pray?

Maybe I’m talking to Him.

Maybe I’m just talking to myself.

Maybe I’m the only one who thinks I’m clever

and I read myself for

my tiny little ego.

I write for me.

That’s it.

When I say waterfall

I see a waterfall,

flowing off the hillside and falling

falling

into a wonderful mist which

settles into a green

pool of spring time

water.

I wash myself in this water.

 

 

 

david michael jackson April 21, 2012   dave@artvilla.com

 


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