Poems Should Not Sleep

Poems Should Not Sleep

  (a response to friend David Bibbey, who insists that poems are meant to be shared aloud)

Poems should not sleep in a book, nor slumber under a rock.  They are meant to be

set free, read aloud, sung, shouted, performed on a stage, danced about – as a waltz

or tango or even the Can Can – except, of course, for those that you can’t… can’t....

Not every poem is an exhibitionist; not all are meant to be circus performers,

dogs and ponies, amusements for the masses.  Some are more private and personal;

intended to be taken in small drams – like medicine, poison, or some fine wine:

inhaled, sipped, held on the tongue, swished about, perhaps, then… spit out.

Some poems should be kept in a jar on your nightstand, taken out each evening

to be touched and fondled, smoothed like velvet under your rough hands, then,

stripped naked and taken to bed, alone… or not alone.

Some are intended to be closely examined, under a microscope, maybe – or tacked

and pinned to a butterfly board, dissected, eviscerated, boiled down and distilled, or

taken apart, then re-assembled, like a jigsaw puzzle, while others are only ever meant

to be observed from a distance – via satellite or telescopic lens.

There are those you will want to avoid entirely.  Go ahead.  It’s okay to pass these on to a friend –

or perhaps an enemy.  Not every poem is meant for you.  But, some… there are bound to be some,

you must pluck, press and preserve forever between the pages of your scrapbook memory.

PSC / Jan 2012


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NOTE:

A very TALENTED FRIEND of mine RECORDED this poem and created a video accomaniment -- which she put out on youtube.  I've attached a link below for your enjoyment.

"Click" here for VIDEO: Poems Should Not Sleep

 (Thanks, Ro!  I enjoyed it!  PSC)

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