I Did Not Write These Poems
“Truly fine poetry must be read aloud. A good poem does not allow itself to be read in a low voice or silently. If we can read it silently, it is not a valid poem: a poem demands pronunciation. Poetry always remembers that it was an oral art before it was a written art. It remembers that it was first song.” JLB
I did not write these poems.
I plucked sins from the sky
and dug hurt out of the earth.
I scraped an idea off the ocean floor
to toss words out the back of a hearse.
I did not write these poems.
I eavesdropped on the quiet and the dark,
and reeled in the soft whispers of the east.
I tore open my favorite grains of sand
just to step and sink between my feet.
I did not write these poems.
I stole them from my mother’s purse.
I crawled in a familiar marsh
to break a deal with the ones He cursed.
No vigil, no drama,
no hook, no verse.
My life for just a life.
Please,
my word for just one more.
I did not write these poems
But I was there,
I was with you
when we found them first.
About the Creator
Victor Eremita
I am an aspiring celibate vegan bookworm.
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