I Did Not Write These Poems

“Truly fine poetry must be read aloud. A good poem does not allow itself to be read in a low voice or silently. If we can read it silently, it is not a valid poem: a poem demands pronunciation. Poetry always remembers that it was an oral art before it was a written art. It remembers that it was first song.” JLB

By Victor EremitaPublished 6 years ago • 1 min read

The Lovers of Valdaro

I did not write these poems.

I plucked sins from the sky

and dug hurt out of the earth.

I scraped an idea off the ocean floor

to toss words out the back of a hearse.

I did not write these poems.

I eavesdropped on the quiet and the dark,

and reeled in the soft whispers of the east.

I tore open my favorite grains of sand

just to step and sink between my feet.

I did not write these poems.

I stole them from my mother’s purse.

I crawled in a familiar marsh

to break a deal with the ones He cursed.

No vigil, no drama,

no hook, no verse.

My life for just a life.

Please,

my word for just one more.

I did not write these poems

But I was there,

I was with you

when we found them first.

I am an aspiring celibate vegan bookworm.

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Written by Victor Eremita