I hasten away on a ship to new seas
To seize a new moment, to shake a new hand,
To hasten the day I return once again
With a bottle of poems washed up on the sand.
Books for sale
Poet Rod Clark maintains that a poem is not a poem until it is read aloud to another person. It otherwise lies dormant in its cocoon, never to be born. I tend to agree, only because it suits my poetic experience. I was drawn to poetry from an early age, reading aloud first to my family, then to friends and classmates.
Two, perhaps three weeks a year would be devoted to poetry in my English classes, and I devoured those times. I would spend hours in the library, deep in the words of poets of our times and the past. At some point, I began writing my own verse, and soon began reading at open mic poetry events. I always felt that my poetry should breathe the air and scatter to the wind.
I write, not in abstraction or disguised imagery, but in plain words to be read, listened to, and understood (well, most of the time). I enjoy all forms of poetry and have a large library of other poets' books to gather inspiration.
A few years ago, I penned a couple of poems in a new and unique style, which was christened "Ekkensian" by Rod Clark (the above-mentioned poet). Professor Emeritus (San Francisco State University) and Poet Laureate (Pacifica, California) Clark then went on to write several Ekkensian poems, one of which won an award in a national poetry contest!
It seems, these days, there is an endless sea of poets washing up on our shores, like grunions on a moonlit night. It's time to grab a pail and go a-fishin'.
Above photograph: Piper's Dusk
Above poem: "Epilogue," from Collected Poetry of Thomas A. Ekkens—Early Works