Thursday, February 12

Poetry in Motion

a favorite poem. written by nikki giovanni.

poetry is motion, graceful as a fawn,
gentle as a teardrop, strong like the eye,
finding peace in a crowded room.
we poets tend to think our words are golden
though emotion speaks too loudly
to be defined by silence.
sometimes after midnight, or just before the dawn, we sit,
typewriter in hand, pulling loneliness around us,
for (getting) our lovers or children who are sleeping, ignoring
the weary wariness of our own logic to compose a poem--
no one understands it
it never says love me, for poets are beyond love
it never says accept me, for poems seek not acceptance but controversy
it only says I am, and therefore I concede that you are, too.
a poem is pure energy, horizontally contained between
the mind of the poet and the ear of the reader
if it does not sing, discard the ear
for poetry is song
if it does not delight, discard the heart
for poetry is joy
if it does not inform, then close off the brain
for it is dead
if it cannot heed the insistent message
that Life is precious
which is all we poets
wrapped in our loneliness
are trying to say...
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