Read Poem: The Artist as a Young Poet, by Scott Houk

I was a young man planning escape
Your Prose filled my world with symbolic shape
Pentatonic, ironic the lines that we used
To relate and reveal the guise of my muse

We drove to the depths of a deepening ocean
Searching for lines to keep us in motion
Iambic, myopic where hearts skip a beat
With wayward abandon of unstressed retreat

Our bodies entangled and writhed in such bliss
Releasing shorn verses that joyfully kissed
Where cascading rivers know only to stream
Our mountain of wisdom: a life in a dream

Etched on our page the stains of my art
But lines without meaning act only in part
To think of a life with so few words to say
Poetic concupiscence brought me this way.

Author: poetryfest

Submit your Poetry to the Festival. Three Options: 1) To post. 2) To have performed by an actor 3) To be made into a film. View all posts by poetryfest