Pedestals of Greatness ~ I Poet, I Am

Pedestals of Greatness ~ I Poet, I am ~*~ I am somewhat perturbed by your incantations, your... somewhat obvious pretense to the banality of your poetry or the lacking thereof. ~*~ Surely you jest, lest you mock us forthright, for there can be no doubt in your mind of the profundity of your own words. Feigning humble rhetoric does you you no justice.  For one so aware of ones own brilliance could neither be humble or less transparent. ~*~ Perhaps you search not of praise alone, but enjoy the feeble attempts by the unsophisticated. Peasant adoration of your greatness, this you often confirm by staring into the mirrors of these pages stroked by your own hand, the genius  therein. Their meager attempts to grasp classic poetic constructs and meaning, it amuses you, though painfully. ~*~ I think you search for your equal, for God knows there must be another of your kind. Given the soul of the ancients and the divinity of God’s blessing upon your heart, your mind, your poet's eyes that behold the simplicity of poetry in every breath and song of God’s day. The music is played for all to hear, yet they hear not what you perceive, nor find in interpretation of God’s voice there set in beauty, in nature, or in the lifting aspirations found in a woman’s smile or her eyes. ~*~ So lay down your sonnet’s, and long winded prose amongst us, and tease us with diamonds and gold; none will deny what is clearly seen as its brilliance overwhelms.... They will come and touch your gold and adore its sheen and wipe it clean with tongues of praise and lift their hands towards these, Pedestals of Greatness. ~*~  And if some poor fool lays before you all that he has for offering, a bruised peach, or a rotten pear, his words.... You may chastise him for his stupidity, his humble ignorance, and yet... forget to thank him for his humility, his gifts.  ~*~ Bitter words will be his reward, to fill his empty hands. ~*~If ever I would stand from such a place, and cast scowls from selfmade heights, for were it not enough for you to read, I demand more. Knock me down unto the ground and let me feel the earth again. Written April 2nd, 2002 © on Apr 02 2002 11:41 AM PST, Darmok    other