A real poet isn't a "nice guy". He's not a friend. He finds no inspiration in a pretty summer afternoon. He finds it in at the very bottom of the deepest barrel. A real poet is as dangerous as he is desperate. He'll sell your heart to the junkman for a buck, and put that buck toward a bottle to drink until he can't stand. Then, he'll drink some more.
That's too dark, you can find inspiration in nice things too!!
ReplyDeleteI like that man. It's good.
ReplyDeletegood text!
ReplyDeleteI like this. And it makes sense, because if a poet is constantly concerned with what others think or feel, how does he get to the nitty gritty, the deepest truth of something.
ReplyDeleteGood thoughts.
one word; Byron.
ReplyDeleteCool post man :D
Yeah Bryon would be a prime example. He was one of the best around.
ReplyDelete