a sonnet by Thomas Davis
What responsibility do poets
assume once they have started writing verse?
Walking through the universe inchoate
has been rejected when their words immerse
them in the streams of dreams, emotions, thoughts
taking shape upon an empty page
and reaching out to other spirits caught
in living’s fears, hopes, love, joys, dread, and rage.
Should poets only sing of love and light?
Images that burn the retina like a flash
of lightning streaking through a sky’s black night?
Or is there reason for their lifetime’s cache
of words to speak of justice, truth, destruction,
the possibility of life’s extinction?
fourwindowspress 
. . . to help humans become human.
Yes! That too, Kenne.
Reblogged this on Becoming is Superior to Being and commented:
“As we grow older the world becomes stranger, the pattern more complicated . . .” (T.S. Eliot) I keep searching for clarity, lucidity; and I know each time I seek that, I’ll become more entangled. That’s when I turn to poetry. — kenne
The world certainly seems stranger to me right now, Kenne, but not the earth. Like you I can celebrate the complexity and beauty that allows life to be — if we humans don’t totally destroy what we have been gifted.
If someone wants to tell me what I may or may not take as a subject or topic when I write poetry about I stand ready to fight them – with words at least.
I would never think of telling Ben Naga what to do, although I reserve the right to enjoy what he does nevertheless.
You were never anyone I suspected of doing so, although I do have a sneaky feeling you prefer certain of my modes of expression to others. All of which is fine with me. I hope I can continue to create work you enjoy as well as pleasing other folk, Calliope and – of course – Ben Naga. 🙂
We must write what we must write, whether it be dark or light. An elegant sonnet, Tom.
Thank you Betty. It is a little different in that I messed with the meter on purpose a little.