Poet Soup~

~brambled thoughts~

He peeled himself from the page

Maybe he was hungry for illumination

But all I had was poetry

He brought leaves for the pot

An offering

But I know everything depends on the type of flora we mix

Some are notoriously poisonous

While others dilate the mind

I told him

My mind dilates enough on its own

And offered him first taste

Of an alphabet soup that revealed each letter

In the complex system

Of the human being

The flavor did not lie

And he pushed it with the spices

But I am a wary rabbit in the headlights

And said

Then you write the story,

But be careful of getting all caught up in it

Poetry is a snare

It changes how one perceives everydays

He was not impressed

He was not rebuffed

The soup began to percolate

He peeled himself from the page

And caught my momentary attention

But could he keep it

Us poets are a fickle lot

Ain't we

 

 

copyright:2011vssmd/amusemusepress

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Author's Note

~musings~

Reviews

[MuSe Ampoule]

Very good to address the point that with poetry...pushing too much or adding too much for the sake of doing such things can spoil the creative soup and sour the taste with readers! As always your dancing in the fantasy, SOC, surreal gives this a whole and full bodied flavor!
"My mind dilates enough on its own"
"Us poets are a fickle lot
Ain't we"

Yup...very Clever white rabbit, very clever indeed!

[Robin]

ah the spices , to suit to taste , enough ? a little more ? and one must love the the adventure in creating new recipes ~ fickle ? yes ~ because we don't settle ~

[Angela]

I have missed your writing so dearly,
So much so that I nearly,
Wandered off the road,
With a slimy toad.
He, heee.
Hello hon.

[Maurice]

A creative soup it is. You are the master chef.

[Lachenille Papillion]

Not all of us poets are fickle =)

You are on a roll of creativity, Selene, so playful and direct. The lines are lyrical, and sing amongst themselves. I love how your mind bends when you write like this. hugs