To Know A Poet
I want you all to know,
To feel the coming of an age
When your children shall recite my name
Like the water they thirst for in the morning rays,
I have come to tell you freedom is my truth
The wind that blows in your ears.
I tell you this, Judge of conquest,
Judges and Mediators of poetry
You have not known what a poet is-
be either a Rimbaud or a Thomas that sings on cherub wings-
With thirst in his barbed throat
To be sealed in this age that knows not of heroes or teeth
These vengeful moments that ripe the fruit that feeds the soul
No - you many men of a single face
You know not a poet.
Copyright ©2008 Tristan Grey
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