The Poet

by mkvecchitto

 

the poet

 

Words fell from her lips

pooling on the floor, shimmering

 

Her body almost invisible as she read

moving with rhythm and purpose

 

Her shadow dancing on the wall melded with peeling paint

punctuating stories only she could tell

 

There was beauty to its ugliness

 

Her voice soft, almost a whisper

echoing in a room greedily swallowing all sounds

except for the scraping of our chairs against a cracked tiled floor

 

We pulled them forward to hear her speak

 

And when she was done, she sighed and bent her head

spent, drained, delivered

 

Power, her gift

Our attention, its vehicle

 

 

photo: Free Vectors

note:

I wrote this after watching a woman perform at The New World Deli for the 2017 Austin International Poetry Festival. She was very unassuming when she stepped on stage and then came to life as she read. She was amazing!

 

 

 

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7 Comments to “The Poet”

  1. Wow! You took us their with your descriptive imagery and powerful words. Loved it! When was the 2017 Austin International Poetry Festival? I’m in that region of the country? Hadn’t heard of it? Do you have a link?
    Bravo on the experience of this poem!
    Chuck

  2. That’s it with poetry – if it’s truly from the heart – its outpouring drains. But that’s all part of its beauty. Thanks so much for sharing this.

  3. I saw the pain, beauty and nspiration pour out to the floor with your description…eloquent!

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