Peers and Poets
By Lydia Nolan
© May 6, 2008

Many will say, “poets are a dime a dozen.”
They may even say: “Every time they speak it’s about the same thing:
Love, pain, sorrow, explicit joy, and everything in between.”
But no one thinks about the traveling—from here to there,
The different sceneries, and how one’s perspective
Elevates emotion, daunts surprise, or maybe even
Blends joy with despair, to make a cake of something totally new,
In another place somewhere—
In someone’s private evening—

Love is so many different things to so many different people.
It can mean a place to sleep.
It can be a sexual encounter,
Or an evening with a person who
Makes one feel a deeper dream—

Sorrow is a hundred light years away for some,
And for others—it is stifling—I mean....
It can be crippling, to some;
To others, they cannot even
Conceive of what that poet even means...

There are consequences for some, and never
Can another one understand the depth of those who
Have to walk that mile, and those who always
Know it’s possible to deceive, the hundred
Participants of the ornamented moccasins
The hope, the holding on—each bead—means something...
Those knowing nothing about anything...
Poets cannot explain, but only in their magical way
Of words...



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