B Poet
by weirdingway
Posted to Action Poetry on 2004-04-08 19:17:00
I should’ve taken my B,
then my leave.
Instead I chose denial
and doggedly cleaved to my
dream of being just a fourth
of each
Milton and Donne.
Metaphysically half the poet
I would’ve idealistically like to have been,
but realistically, still quite
a reach.
Lost in a past
that I can not have,
while presently
barely present.
My voice suppressed by insecurities,
discontent with my winter,
yet I spit out flurries,
while my mind contrives blizzards.
Crystalline figurines
falling upon heads,
brushed off shoulders,
as though dead skins.
I could take a B
possibly a C plus,
but I guess
I’ll take my
Incomplete
and my leave.
Weird