Way Out In Left

tuesday may 2, 2000

(Simple...)

Instead of a full-fledged journal entry today, I think I'd rather do a little poetry reading for everyone…Hey, I heard that. Stop your whining.

Although I'm fairly ignorant and unskilled in the Poetry Arena (the reading, the reciting, and the writing of poetry), I do have a couple of poems that I kind of get off on. The first one is by the late Jim Morrison. Yeah, that Jim Morrison. The Doors guy. Although most of his poetry seems to fall somewhere between overly-forced clashing imagery and drug-induced Native American themes, Morrison does have one poem that just knocks me out. I love it. I love it for the simple passion contained in 5 centered lines. It's great:

There was preserved
in her
The fresh miracle
of
surprise

The second poem is a stupid throwaway knock-off of an old nursery rhyme. But I think it's funny. And ironic. And it still makes me laugh. I have no idea who came up with this version of it, but it's pure genius at work:

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
Some poems rhyme,
And some don't.

Like I said, I'm poetically-challenged, but somehow those two poems speak to me. Actually, they speak for me. Each in its own way sums up the ol' Glennster quite nicely. I like that.

 



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