One thought on “National Day on Writing

  1. I fear that I’ve sent you this poem before, but it’s, like so relevant here re. why I write:

    first draft (in e-mail to TL)
    Poetry at Its Best

    I prefer writing poetry
    to reading it; reading poetry
    aloud to the other way.

    I prefer reading almost anything
    to reading about poetry
    on most days.

    I want to write I’d rather hear
    a poem read than read a poem heard,
    but I do not believe it’s true.

    I write what’s not true because I rather
    like the wiggly way the words wind the line
    like a worm on a fish hook.

    Most days I enjoy reading
    a poem I have heard read
    as much as I enjoyed hearing it. Read.

    Today comparing one joy to another
    seems wrong like enjambment writing
    awkward on purpose or not true.

    I prefer seeing visual art
    to creating it; seeing how my creations
    take shape robs me of much joy.

    Not so much do I compare
    my work with other artists’ as
    with the art I make in mind. Before hand.

    The words my mind makes
    that some days I call art remain
    the same in my mind and on my line.
    Or else I change them.

    Poetry at its best invites
    others to write it. Poets at their best
    make poets of us all.

    Who claims art at its best invites
    others to buy it, makes us critics all,
    picture framers, comparison shoppers,
    commodity traders all.

    [Additional line that begs inclusion:
But somebody has to pay for the paint.]


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