Everyone Is A Poet
The neighbor boy strolled onto my porch.
uninvited
while I was reading and eating breakfast on a day that was perfect
for lazing around. It was Sunday.
And it was perfect as I said.
Just a slight breeze.
He was, I guess about nine.
Of course I knew that he was wise beyond his years
probably wiser in some
secret way than
my 80 plus years.
His skin was soft, and his fingernails were dirty
Im reading some poems by kids,I told him.
Do you like poetry? I asked
He sat down at the table with his chin in his arms
He closed his very large eyes.
His feet couldn’t reach the floor.
He swung them back and forth
to a slow dreamy rhythm.
I am a poem, he said finally,
taking a grape from the bowl on the table
After a long silence between us,
he said, and so are you
with your African bathrobe
and your wrinkled skin all over
and your ten million memories
that poke into your thoughts at strange times.
I couldn’t breath while his words
tumbled out of his soft whispering
lips.
More silence.
I was afraid to break into his ideas
with my grown up phrases of praise for his his wisdom.
Then he said everybody is a poet
or else they are a poem.
Or both.
Are you a poem or a poet? I asked.
He looked away.
Both, he said.
Is that your cat? he asked, noticing Marco Polo
stalking a squirrel in the yard.
Without waiting for my reply
he climbed off the porch
and ran after the cat
who disappeared into the deep grass.
© Helen Webber, 2010
Helen,
This is a lovely, slice of life poem. I love the contrast between age and youth and the wisdom we gain from both.
I’m both a poem and a poet. I always like both/and instead of either/or.
I agree about having both! The old saying that “you can’t have your cake and eat it”, never made sense to me. If you are lucky enough to have a cake, it would
be a mark of insanity not to eat it!
After re readibg the poem, I decided that Marco Polo is a poem.
life is a poem, it just does not always rhyme
love your colorful words and ideas.
Dear Helen,
This came on a day that I am feeling very introspective. I am neither a poet or a poem – maybe sometimes a poem – but not today. We have sent our press release to the world today and wondering if it will bear fruit. We all deserve a bit of “fruit” -or at least a really good poem.
One can be a despondent poet and write a dark poem. There’s
no light without shadow. Am I a Jungian or what?
A wonderful poem, a wonderful poet, a wonderful boy, a wonderful cat……..I can see it all and it is a wonderful experience for me and for all who read it. Thank you, dear friend
Very nice poem! Yes, everyone is or can be a poet. Just saw “The Pitmen Painters” in NYC; great play. Can everyone then be an artist? Is everything we do art anyhow? Substituting a word in a famous quote: Man (woman) makes his (her) own ART, but not in conditions of his (her) own choosing.
On some occasions it has seemed that my life could be a performance piece…and for that matter any human could make that claim. Some might be boring, but what could be more boring than watching Andy Warhol eating a mushroom for 45 minutes?
I love this, Helen. You know I’m a fan.
I will share this on the Latin Pop Shop facebook page:
http://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Latin-Pop-Shop/256726743576
My cat wears a tuxedo
Even when he’s not going out.
He knows he’s handsome.
He also knows things that humans have been taught
are rediculous, imagined and downright silly.
He has his feelers out. He can smell a rat a mile away.
The people kind, not the furry kind.
He’s nine. Sixty-three in people years.
The cat next door is fat and orange like a pumpkin.
He knows things, too.
He knows enough to open our door
and talk to Mr. Tuxedo. And me.
He’s sixteen. That’s one hundred twelve in people years.
He says with his big yellow eyes,
“I’d like some shelter here, and I’d
very much like to teach Felix where
to find the mice and moles around this place.
I’d also like you to know you’ve found
a soft pillow in my heart.”
Helen, your stuff amazes me. Also inspires. CL
Some people are beautifully right brained. Thanks for sharing this lovely look at life and the intersections we are blessed to enjoy. I think that the ability to express beauty verbally as well as with one’s hands and heart is remarkable.
Dear Helen,
Your little dreamer poet is beautiful, as is everything you express in your art.
Love,
Leon
“And so are you” he said! Oh my! Isn’t it remarkable how you conversed with this spirit in the flesh! A magical moment from another dimension!! Truly beautiful!