XIII

Don May 20th, 2008

XIII Wordsworth wrote an endless poem in blank verse on” the growth of a poet’s mind.”  I shall attempt a more modest feat for a more distracted age: a blog, “Things which a Lifetime of Trying to Be a Poet has Taught Me.”   

            Here’s a poem that shows one of the things free verse can actually be good for: extended onomatopoeia.

 MEDITATION: NOISE 

I

a quiet never have I (but inside)

know—snowmmmblanketsmmmworldbut

notquietmmmHONNK!  shut up,

world, your language is obscene

II

wind through trees or shutters or

around corners or just

wind–conversation of starlight—

surf, seagulls, anybird

merrily jumpiness of frog (PLOP)

into pondily ripple (SPLASH) rain

drops and snowflakes and your breath

on my cheek: the nice sounds,

the soft sounds, the

peaceful sounds.

III

down from dream into

actness of live (BLAAHT)

curse it (SLAM) shut up,

world, your langue is

obscene

Donald T. Williams, PhD

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