Poets
are coffee percolators.
If
we’re patient the words and the feelings and the emotions will come together
like a tsunami of creative pageantry, a God force that will leave you spent and
trembling.
Poets
stand the test of time like Noah before and after he became an arc builder.
I
want to advance with you through the gloomy and Lite-Brite forests of a virtual
reality unraveling before us like string cheese or another reckless and wanton
ball of yarn.
We
start as leopards who believe they cannot change their spots and before you
know it we’re capable of anything as we channel our inner Dr. Seuss and focus
on what’s really going on.
Some
people resist the notion of ever creating anything original, while others know
if you don’t take a risk every now and again what’s even the point of accepting
this life and doing your best to outgrow your skeleton and brain trust?
Poets
are living, breathing labyrinths ready and willing to go the distance once
boundaries have been displaced and our worst nightmares have been tucked in and
read a bedtime story.
Julie
appeared in a disco ball of glitz, glamour and a librarian’s knowledge that the
books inside our heads are the cradle of civilization.
Julie’s
a Shakespearean actress who understands it’s the words underneath the acting
that will break these Victorian chains and deliver us from our cloven hooved
bondage.
Charles Cicirella
11/19/15
No comments:
Post a Comment