WHEN I LISTEN

Ken Bartlett 1934 (Leominsterr Mass)

April 23 


So many things are seldom seen or heard,
from coyote stalking to songs from a bird.

Too self-absorbed with delusions of life,
suffering reigns from self-imposed strife.

Living condenses into a bumbling sensation.
Eyes groping downward miss so much of Creation.

I feel that need, to see savor and relent.
I know no best time and so redact the dire extent

of past misgivings and listen!
All things become refreshed and glisten.

The new, and the old are separate, together.
The mind will race, relinquish its tether.

Feet march in place, and stars twinkle and linger.
For this is where my heart:

…..can taste your anger,
….......absorb your pain,
….......…..inhale your love,
….......….......when I listen.        

About this poem

The motivation for this writing came from a recent conversation with a family member.

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Written on March 14, 2023

Submitted by compostken on April 12, 2023

43 sec read
45

Quick analysis:

Scheme AA BB CC DD CC EE EX EXXC
Closest metre Iambic pentameter
Characters 757
Words 144
Stanzas 8
Stanza Lengths 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 4

Ken Bartlett

retired forester residing in a continuing care home in Lancaster, PA with his wife of 59 years more…

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    "WHEN I LISTEN" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 27 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/158926/when-i-listen>.

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