I’m a poet, my feet show it. They’re Longfellows.
I’ve been called a lot of strange things in my career but not since high school has anyone referred to me as a poet. Not so lately. Last Saturday I attended a meeting of our local Orange Dog Poets. Tuesday I went to the Nash Street Tavern open mike session and read some of my poetry. Early Wednesday morning I read some of my poetry on a local radio show that can be heard worldwide on the net. Thursday we picked up yesterday’s mail and the local News of Orange Newspaper, and in the Poets Corner they published my poem on Loving America. Friday I will be including some of my poetry in a presentation I’ll be making at our Senior Center. I have been including my poems in most of my presentations nearly all of my career as a professional speaker, that being for the past 45 years. I’ve considered myself a lot of things but never really a “poet.” I think most real poets will agree that I am not really a “poet.” I’m more of a rhymer who works with rhythm. Early this morning the thought hit me that “A poet can write anything he wants to. There are no rules.”
The power of that statement nearly floored me. I went on to say
Oh, a poet could write most anything she wants to.
Foolish, schoolish, unsound….profound
And the words of her selection, might sway a close election
Or cause an insurrection
A phrase unfurled, might change the world.
That’s enough on the subject. (Applause)
References:
- Art Fettig’s Newsletter – July 31, 2017
