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Monday, December 22, 2003

"Merry Christmas" with love to you and yours, Ma Humbug xx


Proper poems will not be written
by the uneducated
for the grammer will not stand up
to the severe beatings
it will recieve
once exposed
to the educated masses.

Proper poems will not be written
by the ordinary shopworker
for her ideas and dreams
are dull and of course
ordinary
they will fail the tests
set by the exam boards
whose rulings
set in stone
must be obeyed

Proper poetry will not be written
by housewives or mothers
left at home, for hours on end
while their men do the real work
and bring home the money
to pay for the paper
and ink
necessary for the poet
to breathe.

Proper poetry will not be written
by the woman who stands
alone on the top of the hill
remembering, way back
when,
The woman who can still hear
the voices and see the faces
of the long dead,
the dead, and feel the breath
of the dying
on her neck.

Proper poetry will not be written
by me, or you
for poems cannot be forced
into existance
they are kissed into life
by heartbroken lovers
bereaved fathers
lost children and those
who remember
the bodies of the dead
so many bodies
that there is no earth
as far as the eye can see.

Proper poetry is not written
it fights its way into being
through the mouth of the poet
his wet, hot mouth,
the womb
his black charcoal pencil
the incubator
it fights its way from the bowels
of the earths misery
it fights its way from the heights
of the heavens joys
and sets itself upon the pages
of the poets heart.


sk 10/02

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