Kitchen Table Kibitzing
Earlier in my life, I didn’t care much for reading poetry, just really couldn’t get into it. I did write a few poems though and people told me that my poems reminded them of Charles Bukowski’s poetry.
I started taking an art class in Nashville at a place called Art & Soul. The class started with dancing, meditation, a poem was read, and then painting began. I came to love poetry.
So it was with great surprise that I started reading Charles Bukowski’s book “Come On In” and page after page there wasn’t a single poem I liked! That has never happened to me before, and I now read a lot of poetry. (Course I don’t read Emily Dickinson, who, according to the intergalactic version of Wikipedia, “The Hitchhikers Guide”, lists Emily Dickinson as the worst poet in the galaxy.)
I kept plugging away in Bukowski’s 279 page book, and I finally found it.
One poem in the book that was so good it made reading all the ones I didn’t like worth it.
One poem that made my knees shake, my heart soar, and I could feel the poem all the way down to the souls — of my feet.
The thing that was missing for me in all those years was that I never knew poetry was meant to be read out loud. It’s a spoken word art form. The other thing I learned was that each poem has to be read out loud twice.
the real thing
yes, I know that you think
I am wrong
but
I know what is right for me
and what
is not.
may I tell you my
dream?
I am surrounded by
thick cement walls,
I am dressed in a red
robe
and I am sitting at an
organ.
there is
not a
sound.
I begin to play the
organ.
the hiss of the notes
is sharp and soft
at the same
time.
it is a slightly bitter
music
but among the dark notes
there are flashes of light and
laughter.
as I play,
the incomprehensible mystery
of the past
and of the present
becomes
comprehensible.
and best of all,
as I play,
nobody hears the music
but me.
that is my
dream.
Charles Bukowski
and best of all,
as I play,
nobody hears the music
but me.
that is my
dream.
Now is that a great poem or what? It sure suits me. Feel free to add poetry you like, don’t like, or talk about anything that’s on your mind. Who am I to say? It’s my first night here. Hi! What is your dream?