What is a poet?
A poem about Buckingham Town
Sat in Dukes Bar in BuckinghamWith the usual pint in handA friend wanted clarification on something He is better placed to understand This friend who sat before measked a typically profound questionWhich left me momentarily ponderwith a pained and lost expression ‘What is a ‘real’ poet?’ he asked meand as I began describing...on hearing the words, not yet passed my lips, I paused and stopped prescribing ‘Do you know what? I just don’t knowis there a definitive description?Am I really qualified or worthyto offer you this prescription? Reflecting on this momentWith this friend I respect and admireThe conversation really plagued me And set my thoughts on fire After days and weeks of pondering And searching for the answerI think I’ve found my own conclusionAs to what makes a real word dancer A poet is just a personsomeone who has a thoughtThrough words and rhyme and pause in time(...and skill and expertise...?)well that’s what we’ve been taught They weave their words like wizardscast a spell upon the pageAnd from the dust and air and rustConjure words that last an age They dance upon the paper lineswith pen or prancing thumbsThey turn a simple rhythm into a banging, beating drum They mystify and incapsulate and imprison what they seeUnshackling what they’ve capturedLetting the words they know flow free What is a poet? It’s anyoneWho through happiness, pain or strifeCan articulate their experienceBreathing dead words back to life We shouldn’t think that just because We don’t hold a literary degreeThat we can’t embrace the powerthat emanates from poetry ————————————————————————Dedicated to my good friend and ‘real poet’ Matt Pucci Writes and Villiers Hotel Buckingham. In the year of clarity.