I Want to Be a Poet

I seek to speak what has not been said
At least not said to death
Nor merely spit up what I have read
And not to waste my breath

Beautiful magical cryptical words
Soaring things-in-themselves like sunset birds
Squared-away and added-up ...just ...like ...so:

I want to be a poet (did you know?)

I seek to see what has not been seen
At least not seen by me
And I see you will see what I mean
Inside my poetry

Singing and soaring praying and roaring
I am so glad now that I have gone mad
To do some good by doing something well

I want to be a poet (can you tell?)

I seek to sing what has not been sung
At least not heard by you
And climb the ladder another rung
Doing this thing I do

Improving myself improving the time
Trying to make my prosaic life rhyme
Fifty-three going on fourteen in fall:

I want to be a poet (that is all)

+Steven Curtis Lance



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