poeticizing a possible cut from a project

worlds floral
need not utilize
aggressive tactics.
They know this and this
silent assurance
is enviable
as it ought to be.
Dogwood blossoms.

Simplicity is
dogwood strength.
Gentle pinks.
Innocent whites.
Delicacies
the finger shall not
defile. Yet without
the branches which look

like an artist
using natural strokes,
brought them forth so
the delicate, gentle
pink and innocent
white dogwood
blossoms could have places
to sit while pretending

they are not aware
of how pretty
they are or that if
they’d stick a little longer
to their stems,
more people would copy
them and cease
unhurried,

worrisome
ways. Scientific
names for floral
forms should not be
of concern to ordinary
humans of any
geographical
dot large or
a speck. Another

personal improvement
project. Too concerned
with wanting to know
names of flowers
and trees. Educators
would press this
virtue – or
educators

might laud this as
virtuous.
But other than
the college-ruined horticulturalist,
only the poet should bother
and not even give a big push
in the bother in learning a lot
of fancy names – only because

the more words the poet has at hand,
the happier he or she shall be.
Azalea
would be one of those
words. Wonderful
word, azalea.
I’ve long known
the word; known
azalea

long before poetry affairs
were initiated. But I didn’t know
the bush out here so thick
with red blossoms
was an azalea.
Azalea
ought to show.
Doesn’t matter
if it is just the word
or the actual

specimen
boasting all those
rich red blossoms.
Forsythia.
Another. Forsythia.
Known that word too, years,
years before beginning poetry
affairs. Heard the women

speak of them – speak
of forsythias.
But ask me to point one
out – show us a forsythia –
if my soul depended on it
I couldn’t unless
in the case of a multiple choice
so I could hazard elimination.

Roses. Rose.
All know the rose.
Roses love
Lynchburg. Roses
are teachers.
Roses know
of their fame.
Oh how many songs
and poems have roses

flowered in – but they
know their place
– assignments – remain
confined to looking
and smelling pretty.

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About Timmy the Scribbler

Love to write all kinds of stuff I love writing so many different kinds of stuff it is a constant struggle to narrow the focus to a manageable handful and let the others go. But a few years ago I dipped my fingers into a poetry pie and of all my uncertainties, one thing that is no uncertainty is that it is one passion that must remain, so maybe that's the one. I do dearly delight in chopping up fictional works into stanzas and syllables.
This entry was posted in poem, poetry, virginia and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to poeticizing a possible cut from a project

  1. This is beautifully written, Ted, and a joy to read.
    Thank You for sharing

    Best Wishes

    john

    Like

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