Why Poetry?

A poem to me emerged you see
I did not choose its merit
But now I’ve found expression sound
For thought, emotions, spirit.

In school they tried to teach us how
To write like Hemmingway
Vain hope – much better when we all
Write poetry as play.

For me it’s like an email near
And half-way along to photo
But like your pooch-poop-bag that’s full
You wonder where to go to.

My convoluted thought – lines flow
In prose with twisted bother
And with my tendency to yak
Goes longer than it otter.

As everything to everything
Connects for Giver-financers
So Layers of meaning interweave
Make readers fancy dancers.

A snapshot or a photograph
Give chance for second look
To see what else was going on
Just as the picture’s took.

A poem viewed like photograph
An artifact resembles
And email-like, its message tight,
Succinct thought it assembles.

When feelings lite, then prose is right,
If stronger then a poem,
But if we surge with deeper urge
A song then strikes it home.

So cross it is twix photograph
And message in an e-mail
Re: “what to do with poems, Stu?”
Just read then put in poop-pail”.