| Subject: Not A Poem |
Author:
Sandra Alzona
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Date Posted: 03:10:46 07/18/04 Sun
Not A Poem
This one is based on some true to life experiences
Which are also made up of many coincidences
There are times for me to own up to all of them
But in the end God may say they were all nothin’.
There once was a man who entered my aunt’s bar
I was on stage with some friends from afar
A Monday night of poetry, laughter, meat and beer,
But this man of meek bearing, well, just stood there.
Come and join us, I said, and where are you from?
Did he want to have dinner or join in the fun?
He said he just came from the Krishna temple nearby
And bought vegetarian food and was yet as full as I.
I wondered, WHY do they somehow all look the same?
They probably have no need for a name!
Beads, earth-colored clothes and, you know, those sandals
They live soft humming lives with no trace of scandal.
I went back to the mic and continued my yaddering
I was sure I was already getting to be really boring
So I asked this guy to come and read a poem on stage
He looked young but I knew he could speak like a sage.
I’m not ready, he whispered. I’m not ready, he said.
For some reason that struck me, and my heart bled.
It was something I had wanted to tell this visitor
But I knew I wouldn’t make any sense to this mirror.
All my ghosts came gathering round from the past
Several versions of me in neat clothes and fast,
Taking all the rest of the seats of that bar that was empty
And just like that man, they all said they weren’t ready.
Come and join us, they said, and where are you from?
Do you want to have dinner or join in the fun?
I’m not ready, I whispered. I’m not ready, I said.
For some reason that struck them, and their hearts bled.
July 17, 2004
Sandra Alzona
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