Laudatory Leaving

You could say history repeats itself - except that’s 

usually a myopic view as you are the one imbued 
with such insight; and on reflection there might be 
justification, if you could extract yourself off center 
stage. But it doesn’t happen that way, or wouldn’t 
anyway regardless just how central you think you 
seem - in your view at least it’s a theme repeated 
where similar outcomes are guaranteed 

So you’re a 'poet' offering your wares to audiences 
'warranted' to be interested, who are ‘poets’ too or 
does it misconstrue who actually ‘reads’ poetry; I’d 
say it thinks you’re confused, poets read their own, 
they know how it should be read. Any truth imbued 
as such you’d avoid too - or be poetically dead 

The genius of making trite and tawdry phrases into 
verse has withstood ages, not without compromise 
and some fine words praising the few who can tell 
the difference, but less of them grace the pages as 
far as I can see, just graphic talent and visually 
pleasing expositions in a gaudy dearth of words 

Yet it is words which maketh poet’s grace, nothing 
can displace need for words being central themes, 
for gosh sakes, it’s poetry only when words seduce 
you, inducing you into rhythms responding to inner 
voices keening to tunes you’ll never ever hear again 
in any other way 

But here are we, loosely 'Poets' of G; it never made 
sense to adjoin avowed consequence and fraternity 
unreadably, which is the point - should poets engage 
communities common sense cedes over-moderated 
by a few dicks into trenchant mordancy - poet or 
not, decide for yourself, this poet’s leaving ... 
© 4 October 2013, I. D. Carswell