Warrior Poets

Sometimes the poet forgets they’re a poet… And then while looking thru old files for a specific reference they get sidetracked, drawn into an unfinished poem. Perhaps too many unfinished poems?

Then voice of reason says poems are impractical, that they don’t pay the rent, people ignore them. A waste of time… So the poet keeps quiet, helps the writer find the specific non-poem reference they are looking for. It tells ’em to ignore the poem.

And then perhaps in the rarest of times, the poet remembers that there is still work to be done. Unfinished poems to share.

This is one of those times! —> http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_extinct_birds

~
You tell me to clean up my mess?

To pick up what I’ve left and leave no trace?

As if clean and sanitary

is the definition of sane?

I tell you to take nothing

from the wilderness…

~

I tell you to let it be without us!

With only our visits and no

trace left behind after

we have left it

and it has left us

~

We are all in a hall of mirrors and

at the edge of you

we see infinite reflections of you

Then you leave and all images

of you vanish…

There must be a better way?

~

A path that’s you as you change form

from tree to rock to spider to bird

and always as only you,

always as a hall of mirrors

~

Of you as Dodo

of you as Great Auk

as the spotted green Liverpool Pigeon,

as total extinction, leaving no trace

~

And your sky is filled with you

Your once flying fast over us for days and days

a giant cloud of endless flapping wings

~

An entire sky overcast in your beauty

You were once Passenger Pigeon

and always as only you

Then you leave and

all your reflections vanish too

~

All you could of left behind is lost in

Wilderness where you say

you know what the rules say

and you know you must leave no trace?