Poetry Sets Me Naked

Poetry sets me naked upon a page
for those who might care to gauge
the interplay of lines and spaces,
the dark and deeply hidden places,
exposedly for all to see
which is so strikingly
and so essentially... ME!

I am reminded of my dream,
of walking down a hall
when I was but sixteen
passing teachers, students, all,
and to a class arriving late,
where in a doorway—
like an appendaged afterthought—
I stood, and knew not what to say,
but bristled overwrought
at such indifference great,
to the poetry of my strangly naked state!

by Dennis Lambert

Comments (1)

I like some of your thought patterns. They seem vaguely familiar! Must be the influence of the Glasshouse Mountains. H