Poet
What shall I say of the seasons of the moon
for a poet in his blues is a man of grief
and what greater sorrow should a man must see
than to hold in his arms his youth slain dead
What shall I write of the seasons of the moon
for to tell you once of the twinge of art
is to rob you twice of the passion to know
and what greater misery to a poet be brought
forget to bleed than to make his heart
deprived of tears if his eyes be must
what shall he say of the coming of ghust
and of the going of winter, what should he know
But, when his heart does finally bleed
and wet his eyes with what it must
then winter kneels down herself
to beg the arrival of spring again
and still do some with surety claim
that a poet does live in an idle's hutch
but when she brings to life a child
Pray, don't say of a mother as such
About this poem
This poem is about a phenomenon which I refer to as the poetic blues.It is the time when a poet does not receive any intuitions and it appears as if an embargo has been placed in the way of hiser intellect.Towards the end, the poem also touches upon the pain that a poet bears the brunt of, to produce a poem.
Written on September 10, 2022
Submitted by hudazakria1236 on September 10, 2022
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 54 sec read
- 4 Views
Quick analysis:
Scheme | AXXB ACD XCEBD XEXX XFXF |
---|---|
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 817 |
Words | 181 |
Stanzas | 5 |
Stanza Lengths | 4, 3, 5, 4, 4 |
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"Poet" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 18 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/137362/poet>.
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