Poetry 360: The world is on fire, baby
I found this poem written by some guy named Peter Stinson, who apparently is a professional poet. So here it is, my linked blog. I think the poem is okay, although I like rhyming poems better. I guess it's because I can't really relate to it as well. It's kind of the first poem I found too, after having major issues finding people who actually post poetry. But from the looks of it, this guy's a professional, so that's pretty neat.
Friday, February 6, 2009
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Thanks for the link... I'm not a professional poet (ie, someone who writes poetry for a living), but I have written poetry for decades and did earn a B.A. in creative writing.
ReplyDeleteI'm not sure what the deal is with the link to the poem; something's not quite right with the Poetry 360 site. So, here's the poem, for those who care; and, you're right, no rhyming, I'm more Plath-like:
THE WORLD IS ON FIRE, BABY
It's time to come inside.
The smoke is thick as a deep Indian tea,
The southern sky aflame with orange and red
As you call up honey
A smattering, a glitter, in
The evening's candle light.
It's time to come inside; the
Hearth draws near and the
Air shimmers as if alive.
Too often, have I felt the love
Upon my neck, a shuttering,
Even in sooty air.
It's time. It's time for something
Other than the melancholic moans of
Dissatisfaction lingering like
Smoke on a barbecue, the coals white
Hot and desirous of fat and meat
Drips into the smoldering ash.
It's time to come inside; the
World is on fire, baby.