Image result for hills in renaissance painting

You cannot serve both poetry and fame.

A poet is a whore to now—or always the same.

If you want your books to be read

More than you love to write, you are dead.

If you seek fame, you are not you—

Poetry must be the only thing you do.

The great poets had no wills;

They didn’t ask others; they went to the hills.

Keats and Shelley did not need prizes.

They walked out and watched sunrises.

You must be able to review

Yourself—if you need help, poetry is not you.

If you listen to the siren call,

“We’ll make you a poet!” you won’t be a poet at all.

Some poets have no doubt,

And from the first line of the poem you can’t get out,

And those poets can be very good,

But they don’t need to be understood.

Better the poet who is divine

In doubts, and overcomes those doubts in every line.

Judge me: do I succumb to gossip, bitterness and fame?

No, read carefully—I love her. Only love is to blame.






1 Comment

  1. June 14, 2018 at 4:40 am

    Very poetic, Thomas.

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