I listen to poetry of the beat
writers and try to understand why I
am uninspired by words, their words. I try
but nothing arises, I feel no heat.
I listen; song of English kings resound
in rolling rocks of words but I can feel
no sway, no dance, nothing to help me heal
my tired, unrhymed mind. I want to drown
in music, words that fly and soar in clouds
no beats that drag me down onto the earth
and tie me here. I know what words are worth
and what they do; I know what moves a crowd.
But what I need I could not find it words;
I spend my time with music, bands and birds.
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