Reading “real” poetry

I wonder if I do


Real poetry

There is nothing hidden

Nor convoluted

Murmuring of innards and thoughts

Half dreamt up and hiding around the edges of my tongue

To speak them aloud would be difficult

But writing them down

Renders them


And simple is how I like to keep it

For whatever reason we need it

Poets each write with the ink of their own DNA

So I guess no one can compare what we say

And if we do

It is just ego

And ego never said a poetic thing anyway

So this will do

It’s all that seems to have appeared today

10 thoughts on “Simple

  1. Seems real enough to me! And it makes me wonder – did my ego not ever say anything poetic? Suddenly, I can’t recall my ego having ever said anything but I was there too. Like a chicken watching.

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