VERBAL MEAT OR ANATHEMA
A poetic message is inspired alone in heart of the troubadour
A still small voice tremulously tendered before a worldly door
Bestowing anxiety, joy, and fears uniquely the bards alone
Bearing intimate inner feeling worn upon his sleeve
Deeply personal words his poetic heart doth believe
Dredged out rooted values of life and death
Planting poetic romantic image of the rainbow’s breath
These melodiously syncopated verbal chords of a balladeer
Wrung screaming with primal voice from poetic seer
Sent forth winging singing into celestial sphere.
Poesy speaks softly to the heart that bleeds
Vocal reeds plucked according to synchronous needs
Whether bearing message idyllically epic or light
Personal words made public, hung on stars shining bright
Melding poetic heart’s intoned, to sisters, brothers
Conjoined in ethereal firmament with a legion of others…
Though to some, words discordant, fall barren to ground
Pluck not the heart-strings; bear not needed sound
Leaving vessels empty, spirit untouched…
That is just the way it is!
Some cannot see from your eyes the way it is…
There is no harm or crime
Because they cannot see your words sublime
Though you speak without hypocrisy, in sincerest honesty
Offering all that’s in you with unfeigned, genuine brevity.
What is meat for one is anathema for others
For some cannot connect, though they still be brothers
They need a different voice, voiced another way
To touch the intimate, leading into their soul’s secret pathway.
©Copyright June 10, 2006 by Gary Jacobson
A response to the poem, “For Wadsworth” ©Copyright September 9, 1996 by Nancy L. Meek