SENTINEL POETRY #26 Online Magazine Monthly, January 2005

RORY MILLER

 

Another bunch of words

  (or Why Settle For Virtual Reality?)

 

Poetry my arse!

Show me, please – just show me –

A collection of words

More moving than a mountain,

A verse more humorous

Than an hour with friends, or

One stanza – that’s all I ask –

More stimulating, engrossing,

And altogether enthralling,

Than you, laying here, alive.

 

Poetry, schmoetry!

It’s just a bunch of quacks,

Friendless degenerates,

Socially awkward eggheads,

Lost in worlds of meaningless words,

Unable to make life work,

Retreating into a pale imitation of it,

Justified by passion and feeling,

This need to express,

And other such childish traits.

 

Give me life!

Give me conversation!

Give me interaction, involvement,

Silence, and laughter.

It’s true, I may have tittered once,

At some amusing verse, but

It was nothing compared to the joy I feel

In my moments with you.

Except when you talk about poetry,

That is.

 

United States

 

In travels through a mighty land,

Endless wonders touched these eyes;

The Mars-red Utah desert sand;

Cathedral dome Montana skies

Stretch to Rocky’s knife-sharp peaks,

Prevailing over grasslands low,

Vast as painted canyons deep,

How formed and shaped, no man may know.

But the greatest thing I ever saw,

In this hard world is hardly found;

It shakes, and takes man to his core,

It deifies the very ground.

It came one night in kitchen plain,

A small bright dancing blue-edged flame.

 

 Rory Miller, aged 28, studies English & American Lit & Creative Writing at the University of Kent in Canterbury. 

 

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