Reading “real” poetry
I wonder if I do
Write
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
Simple
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
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.
The ego is a slippery thing – I like your analogy of a chicken watching – I’m a bit like that with the ego – watching and pecking at it 😂
Nice
Thanks 😊
Poets do write with their own DNA. Good poem.
Thanks 😊 I think all artists writers and anyone else creative does the same thing.
Real poetry from Kate Duff.
Ha! Thanks Len; that’s lovely 😊
Poetry that touches my heart and soul, that connects with the life experiences of the mass of humanity is, for me, the “real” poetry that our world needs.
I think so too Rosaliene – those are the poets I tend to read the most now too.