PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I have been reading Poetry: I have been reading Poetry for fifty years as of this past April.  Rarely have I encountered so much wisdom compressed into such a small space, and all the more powerful for its brevity.  One would think humanity would learn to stop holding grudges, or would have evolved beyond such pettiness.  But one of the most ancient functions of Poetry is to remind us of the best of ourselves, and how far we allow our daily lives to drift from the best of those patterns.  In posting this poem, you have done much to help others; and, despite my own stubbornness with a grudge, you have actually also helped even an old fool like me.

What a haunting metaphor of,: What a haunting metaphor of, or for, despair you have created here.  I particularly like the word play in the first line, and between the fifth and seventh lines.  Your customary verbal skill is well displayed in the poem.

Although I, too, am mostly: Although I, too, am mostly confined to a single room in my house due to my medical difficulty, the intense and even poignant detail of your poem made me realize that my situation is not nearly as bad as sometimes, when I am in a rotten mood, I like to think of it.  Thanks for the lesson in reality!  This is one of Poetry's most ancient functions, to point out the truth that some of us obscure to ourselves through the mental and emotional subterfuges.

I have come to admire these: I have come to admire these poems so much that I actually look forward to their postings.

Sir, you are a true Poet, and: Sir, you are a true Poet, and I applaud you:  from a catalogue of ordinary experiences on an ordinary 21st century day (perhaps overcast or dismal, or that is how I imagine it, as I read through this), you have constructed a poem of shrewd observation and poignant wisdom.  This poem reminds me of Phil Larkin's best stuff; although, through your poem's final two lines, you achieve the escape from bitterness and disdain that Larkin never fully achieved or managed.  Bravo!!!

The coy brevity of this poem: The coy brevity of this poem seems like some ancient inscription allusive to an even more ancient legend.

You end up missing the person: You end up missing the person and stupid pride prevents you from friendship again.  But hey, you only lost a beneficial friendship.  You still have your stupid, worthless fucking pride.