About the Poem
I wrote this poem after repeatedly hearing people say things like . . .
"Poets don't get famous until they die, ya know." and "No one will appreciate your gift until you kick the bucket my friend!"
Often I have thought, Who needs glory? I'd prefer just to be heard and to touch people on that innermost level. So, listen to me while I am alive World. Don't wait until I am a member of The Dead Poet’s Society.
From A Living Poet |
| by Todd-Michael St. Pierre |
| I Aim to be a Lyrical- Miracle, With real substance, yet, somewhat satirical. A wizard of words, stirring and stewing Soothing rainbows while storm clouds are brewing. A mid- winter rose or a cold desert rain, Blending smile and tear, mixing promise with pain. I Am . . . The moon at noon, midnight sun, mismatched socks, I'm the self- appointed Prince of Paradox. To delight or disgust, for sneers or applause, To mirror my world, to stand for a cause. I please, I provoke, I keep their hearts pounding But not until death are poets "Astounding!" |
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3 Visitor Comments
Michelle
This is such a great poem! Im glad i had the chance to read it.
Purple
Very nice. Thankyou.
Melys
I like this poet's way of telling! I agree that we should appreciate something we have now more, than letting it go to know how meaningful it was.
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