Skip to content

Poetry

April 2, 2011

 

Poetry

I always thought listening to poetry
    was like going to church.
Reverential. Quiet. Introspective.
Just beyond comprehension.
Maybe you do not understand it,
but it was good for you, like cod liver oil. 

One day I sat
in a scene from the child’s book:
“The Emperor’s New Clothes”.
The poet weaving on the loom,
everyone oohing and aahing.
I stood up and yelled
“What the hell is he talking about?” 

Then my heart felt poetry should be more like
    the summer church picnic.
A lot of story telling, dance, and laughter.
Inner secrets shared by friends under the oak tree,
people who sat in the pews on Sunday morning. 

So I read – and listen – and try to appreciate all –
But I enjoy the down to earth, homemade dishes
a lot better. 

Until I tasted Mrs. Jones lyric version
of home made, Rhubarb pear apple pie.
“What the hell was that?”
I was heard to mutter.

Ray Brown

Consider purchasing my book of poems, “I Have His Letters Still” – Poetry of Everyday Life ($11.95).  Available on Amazon at http://tinyurl.com/RayBrownAmazon or purchase an autographed copy at http://poet-ray-brown.com/.

Advertisements
2 Comments leave one →
  1. April 2, 2011 10:45 am

    Oh Ray! This gave me a good laugh, in a good way too. Funny tie in, great work!

    • Ray Brown permalink*
      April 2, 2011 11:17 am

      Thank you – I am pleased you enjoyed the humor…..

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: