Lessons? | Carlyle R. Phelps

Lessons?:

Such a cruel burden,
Modulating idle words drummed in a poet’s heart.
Sitting in isolation—silent—
Allowing every syllable time to syncopate,
From what one wants to say, to what one ought.

Such a narrow tightrope,
Balancing on awkward feet—teetering—
Swaying between wits and grace,
On a one way path to honest expression.

Such a lucid jaunt,
Finding meaning in the mundane and common.
Dreaming under sunlight—introspective—
Pondering effects and causes,
To and from a single point of reference.

When hearts beat in stanzas—
When blood metronomes the meter—
When hands dance in time—
Beauty is the goal, I reckon,
But, if form and function meet,
There may even be a useful lesson
Buried deep within dandy words.

Have you learned anything?
Are you at least entertained?
Is there a lesson here or just a pretty sound?

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