the road to hell is paved with poems,
First, catch your poem,
entice it with sweetmeats and chicken,
a feral poem may turn on you at any instant,
metaphors - extended
personification about to bite
A kittenish sense of humour
will tickle you into a fisherman's arms
or tear you to shreds with good intentions,
so it's best to use armour piercing bullets
to ensure you are the hunter and not the hunted.
Caged, a wild poem is practically worthless,
so why should our intrepid poet
sludging through mud and malaria
to bring back only death and decay.
Truth is, it's hard to say,
maybe it’s the beat of the jungle
the breathy wild entrancing lies
Maybe it's the thrill of the chase
or the trophy hung upon the wall
its none of these things at all.
Trawling through lots of old poems - and thought this feels like a beginning of the year poem - so it's quite appropriate to post it on the official beginning of my Tuesday Poem Blog for 2012.
Now of course there are plenty of other lovely poets and poems up on the Tuesday Poem blog, and it's so exciting for everybody to be up and running again I know I'll be dropping in to see what's happening. But only very quickly because with all the story organising and house painting, tree felling... I'm kind of exhausted. :) Have a great week everybody.