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Rated: · Poetry · Opinion · #1229072
I originally wrote this in the persona of Blake but it could be any poet speaking.

Open Your Eyes

What makes you think I mean more than I say?
I didn’t write to be dissected.
Leave the words on the page;
Leave them there.
I didn’t write them to dance for you.

Stop senselessly studying.

Listen long enough to see
And watch long enough to hear.

I am a master of words,
I choose them: mould them
But a device is a device.
Animated, aesthetic alliteration
And onomatopoeic splashes of words
May ignite and inflame your imagination
Yet words are words.

Did you ever pause?
Ask yourself – am I reading what is written
Or am I reading my heart’s desire?

Pen leaves paper; the poem isn’t mine.
Your words; your meaning.
But now and then stop analysing.
Visualise my Bardic voice;
Hear the prophetic fallacy.
Close you eyes and see the Blossom,
Take nothing more than a flower.
When I write ‘stars’ look to the sky
Not a criticism of conformity.

Play with my words as you will
For you live and I do not.
But remember,
Words are my legacy.

Open your eyes and listen.
© Copyright 2007 Misshrd (misshrd at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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