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A living poem

it’s here right in front of me

without trying

without any cleverness

or skilled wordsmithery

in fact I can write a jumble

a total rumble bumble

tap at the keys and

fumble

and still it’s right there in front of me

a living poem

I’m telling myself,

don’t

try

to write poetry

a living poem

is happening

right now

the more you try to figure it out

the more it’s not happening

here

it’s happening there

an intellectual affair

and over there

you totally lose the flare

the spark

the heart

replaced with a tear

start here

away from all fear

over there

you’re only but a prayer

for a return back to here

so why not

start where you are

now

rather than trying to figure out how

jump in anywhere you like

and a verse for humanity you’re destined to strike

the beautiful mundane is what keeps us all sane

the search for depth overlooks the breadth

for in the shallow we must hallow

proclaim the living poem be thy name

the quest is over for the four-leaf clover

and now it’s time for easy bliss

the low-hanging fruit we can not miss

it’s no-rushing now

and if it’s passed, let it pass

and if it’s coming, let it come

and if it’s here, which it is,

it always is

write down the living poem

and let the volumes unfold

from your library untold

with rolling ladder chasing bookshelves into infinity.

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