Books by Jack Phillips Lowe

Two Poems by JPL

These are two favorites from So Much For Paradise:

Doubt says, "You're all washed up.
If there were any nuggets hiding in that dry riverbed,
any worthy ideas lurking in that wide expanse between your ears,
they would've revealed themselves by now."

Age says, "You'll never do it. Writing in a youngster's game,
and you're Father Time. You're a punch-drunk fighter,
winded by round 3, jabbing at shadows and
blocking with your chin."

Reason says, "Let it go, let it go,
stop clinging to this child's dream.
You're a corporate slug now,
with backs to stab and asses to kiss.
That cut-throat world has a way of killing the Muse.
Give it up; you'll never write another poem."

And how do you answer?
By simply keeping on.
Every word written becomes a rebellion,
and the opposition serves to make you
dangerous and
new once again.

OK---
after much time
and trepidation,
you finally
make the leap.

You mourn the cliff
for its support---
if nothing else,
it offered that.
You dread the canyon floor
for its hardness
and its eagerness
in rushing to meet you.

In the meantime,
you're all right.
Light, cool,
airy even.
Careless---
in a good way.
Is it possible
to find solace in
the space between?

Sure.
The view is incredible
on the way down,
and you might find
that you know
how to fly.

posted by Kris # 11:33 PM