Given twenty words to write a poem I would say simply that love is the only poetry I have known.
The Villainess by Jeannine Hall Gailey.
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
If you’ve never traveled faster
than light, count yourself
lucky. It does mean things
to the body. Your bones
get soupy, you can’t stand up
straight, and you totter
like a baby gazelle, wobbly,
full of fright. But the Captain
with his bald, Shakespearian
grace makes it all look
“There’s been a lot of talk about literary rockstars lately. Does that include poets? Hell yes. The Great Twin Cities Poetry Read is a shining example of poets melting faces from the stage. It’s a rapid fire line-up with 30 or so poets reading a single poem one after another. If you missed the two previous shows, you’re in luck—the 3rd annual read is this Saturday.”
I’m going. Are you?