Let's follow the poet to his
Hell and heaven! Count his
Ghosts and dilemma's?
Reach out to touch his
Stretched-out skies; let's follow
The poet to see where he lays.
Let's follow the poet to his end;
To see if he can?whatever
He wants to do, do over again?.
Let's find the poet's soul, and then
Once found, let it go; And watch the
Afterglow! His indelible impressions?.
"Hurry! Hurry-up!" or we'll be late
"Don't worry," he doesn't' care
If we're near-he's too busy.
"What does a Poet do?
You ask,
"Besides write?"
He thinks all night. Leans against
A fence; moans and groans a little
Thinking how it should have been.
Shakes out rugs: too much pencil
And lead; then tries to clear his Head!
Asks God for forgiveness.
He rides the wind in his dreams.
He just came back from Egypt it
Seems; with more impressions!
"Dennis, I hope you're not bragging
In this little poem; incidentally,
Do poets have homes?"
An old Islamic style of poetry, ghazal form (used by Hafez and ((Rumi, 1207 AD; born in Afghanistan. He wrote poems, mystical odes, songs, prayers, etc.; inside his form I think we find most often 'the friend')); the ghazal form, each stanza of three lines amounts to a finished poem in itself; like the Japanese or Chinese haiku, it has its own roots. The question in Mr. Siluk's poem here is not so much the question of plot or ongoing theme or do we find a friend? Rather, we may see the longing for one, as each stanza claims it own path to the center of the web. Rosa Peņaloza
Note: #679 5/21/05
Poet/author, Dennis Siluk, his site can be seen at http://dennissiluk.tripod.com
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