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Beauty is the sole legitimate province of the poem.-Edgar Allan Poe

Poetry is when emotion has found its thought and thought has found words--Robert Frost

Poetry is an echo, asking a shadow to dance--Carl Sandburg

I have nothing to say, I am saying it, and that is poetry--John Cage

You will find poetry nowhere unless you bring some of it with you--Joseph Joubert

Poetry is what in a poem makes you laugh, cry, prickle, be silent, makes your toe nails twinkle, makes you want to do this or that or nothing, makes you know that you are alone in the unknown world, that your bliss and suffering is forever shared and forever all your own. ~Dylan Thomas

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Special Guest Poet: Marty Gerlach in a Triumphant Return to the Blog

I have plenty to say after the poem, but let's have a look at it first. Oh! And a picture of Sunny riding in the car on the way to New Perspectives Living.



165 Days

 

I can't believe how much time

It has taken for me to return

To New Perspectives Living

You recognize my concern.

 

Sunny happily joined me

For the car ride into town.

I couldn't go without her.

It would only let her down.

 

Sunny was nervous and eager.

She recognized the drive.

One we had taken regularly 

Back when my mom was alive.

 

Yet she sensed a reluctance in me.

I don't know how dogs can tell.

Was there a change in my pulse or breath

That rang like a tolling bell?

 

She was ecstatic as we parked.

And more so when we walked in.

Her drooling tongue quickly gave way

To that Golden Retriever grin!

 

Even I felt a twinge of happiness 

Greeting Bob in his smoking chair.

He sniffled some petting Sunny,

And life seemed a little unfair.

 

"Yes, it's been a while" I agreed.

"Too long" he quietly said.

I nodded and turned away

To face my next moment of dread.

 

But the visit at the front desk

Was one of great delight.

But still my heart tugged at me.

Something wasn't quite right.

 

Then Sunny dragged me

Down the hall she's known for years.

And I found myself unprepared 

For the emotions and the tears.

 

Room one four five is occupied 

By a different tenant today.

But Sunny doesn't know this,

And I struggled to pull her away.

 

I could see in her questioning eyes.

I could read her wondering mind.

"Why DID we bother to come here?

What were you hoping to find?"

 

I felt no peace in my heart.

It was breaking inside my chest.

Should I have given it more time?

Was this really for the best?

 

I think that today I should leave,

And forget about those old ways.

But maybe try to return again

In another one hundred sixty-five days.




Of course, you can tell that the above picture is another one of Sunny in the car. The picture below (All of these pictures have been shared with me by Aunt Marty.) is Sunny in the building at New Perspectives. Finally, before I start my bit of the blog, we have a picture of Sunny and Stella.




I must admit that I am a bit embarrassed with the amount of time that it has taken me to get this poem out now that I looked at the time stamps on the emails. Aunt Marty first emailed this poem to me on September 22. We shared a few revisions back and forth with a few other comments about writing in general until about November 11. Then, I was off for Fall break, and I never returned to this shared project. I offer no excuse other than I forgot about it until a week ago. I cannot say anything else.


So...why the special guest poet in the second week of returning to a weekly blog? That is an easy question to answer. Of the one hundred or so blogs that I have produced, Aunt Marty's poem in a blog last May was the fourth most successful blog that I have had--ever--with 55 total views and 44 unique visitors. If I am trying to get this blog rolling again, I might as well go with a formula that has worked. If all of my blogs were so successful, I would be nearing a 100,000 views and might be able to sell some advertising to, perhaps, be applied to the publication of a chapbook or something. Alas, that is not the case. Here is to hoping that the formula works again!


By the way, I am not too exclusive to share any other writings that my readers might want to share. I will say though that I am likely to be pretty tough editor before any writing gets on the blog. I want every writer to work to the best of her or his potential, right?


Anyway, if you would like to share a poem, a short story, an essay, or just some general words of wisdom, you are welcome to share them with me at mbt1966@yahoo.com. However, I cannot promise that I won't put your work aside and forget about it for a couple of months. Oh, dear!


As always, ENJOY! I will see you here next week.

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I find that I cannot exist without Poetry--without eternal poetry--half the day will not do--the whole of it--I began with a little, but habit has made me a Leviathan.-John Keats

We do not quite say that the new is more valuable because it fits in; but its fitting in is a test of its value.-T. S. Eliot

A man may praise and praise, but no one recollects but that which pleases.-George Gordon, Lord Byron

The great beauty of poetry is that it makes everything in every place interesting.-John Keats

Our faulty elder poets sacrificed the passion and passionate flow of poetry to the subtleties of intellect and to the stars of wit; the moderns to the glare and glitter of a perpetual, yet broken and heterogeneous imagery, or rather to an amphibious something, made up, half of image, and half of abstract meaning. The one sacrificed the heart to the head; the other both heart and head to point and drapery.-S. T. Coleridge

The purpose of rhythm, it has always seemed to me, is to prolong the moment of contemplation, the moment when we are both asleep and awake, which is the one moment of creation.-W. B. Yeats

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