Reading the Rhymes of the Real

Things were not cheesy

until we became cynical.

Sure,

there has always been the pun

and that type of joke that

conversations stub their toes upon

humor that stops

short of

saying anything.

To play on words alone

is to practice with somewhat unreal things

before reading the realer ones

around us, written in

whispered calligraphy.

But to play on things themselves,

to trace those correspondences and

delightful déjà-vus

is to learn reality

by sounding out its quiet rhymes.

When we begin to read the poetry we’re part of

it will catch us off-guard,

install a smile before it is stamped out

by that awkward enemy of appreciation

self-awareness;

it will fill our souls with sweet milk

uncurdled by grasping practicality,

before we have a chance to recall

we had determined to be

lactose-intolerant.

Reviews

[Helen Crutchett]

Brilliant! All your stanzas were fantastic all weaving into one good poem! Loved the analogies penned.
Thank you for sharing this outstanding piece!

[Jade]

Wow, so very nicely done! i like this one a lot