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MIXED APOLOGIES(how I am not a trained poet)
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JOURNAL #19 sweet indiscretion
come
tell me your latest game
can you even begin to recognize
the whispering sonnets in my lonely heart
hear their gentled meaning in the
pitter-patter of my poetic range
there is so much blessing
in such beloved ribbons of scripted
knowledge
which explains to me in generous detail
how I am so freely able to speak of such
matters and with such intimate terms for you
though certain descriptions I use are vague
their intention is still so beautifully true
there is so much need behind the weight of
my words
but the air of description has a tendency
to blow all about so gloriously a muck
a fashion of often belatedly metered out points
express best my amateur's sporadic cue for view
as well as other points of interest
that fall beneath the will of the pen
oh, what a horrible whoring of such lacerated
literacy that you've lead me to
I may be out ranked
but I'm no untried girl
I so enjoy these frenzied endeavors of mine
though quite all too obviously I am not trained
no college nor scholastic institution would
have on its rosters my everyday common name
in fact the scholars of recognition themselves
would convulse in abject horror if they could
see today how brutally I, their previous thoughts
have butchered and or simply maimed
it would be a foul disgust laced with frank
misunderstanding
that would be heaved my overly worded way
towards in their highly educated view
a sophisticate simpleton's choice
of pride less pitiful self expression
well, try not to patronize me too much
whenever from that pigeon holed image I stray
because I may just surprise you and me both
with whatever it is
I have or have not yet written or said...........
(Feb. 2, 1999)
