melissaahowells - The Better Poem

write your poem
he commanded
but thoughts do not come that way
bidden
asked by way of command

poems are an act of
breathing
coming between thoughts
crowding into a brain
and then spilling out
onto the wall
a projection
of images and feelings

remember when you
found that projector
and you threaded that reel
and you moved the furniture
and suddenly
you had a theater
and you clasped your hands in front
of your mouth
as you saw younger versions of
people
you knew as old

that is poetry
isn't it
the past made present
the unreal remade into the living
the thought coaxed into breathing

Eileen and Walter
holding hands on a beach
the waves covering their bare feet
prescription cat eye sunglasses and Ray-Bans
perched on their heads
little white shadows around their eyes
and across the bridges of their noses
a large umbrella lounging in the sand

Norm and Ethel
Frank and Georgette
grinning with their hand-woven hats
and patterned Bermuda shorts
toasting under a turquoise cloudless sky

the flickering
and the click-clacking
of the end of the tape
and the bedroom wall images
falter

where did they go
the line of your smile
and the better lines of the poem
you were told to write
vanishing

how is it the lines
you don't write walk away
and the memory of them
satisfies you more
because they disappear

beauty and people
fade and die
but the memory
will always satisfy
and remain
turn on the projector
and they return to you again

this is the better poem:
the natural one re-called and
un-commanded.

LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS POEM 2:27PM PST 6/12/2021 TIME AND DATE STAMPED INDELIBLE
AND ALSO FOR THIS POET/WRITER MELISSA A. HOWELLS
AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY REGISTERED AND COPYRIGHTED SITE TITLE
MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD....