I have written the occasional poem since I was in high school, when I penned a dada poem entitled “The Typhoon’s Name is Babette.” Alas, while I recall the title, I do not remember the contents of said poem and do not have a copy, because I lent it to a girl named Story in 1967 and never got it back.
I have a friend who’s an incredible poet. Years ago, I showed him some of my poems and he said, “They’re not poems, they’re songs.” Sheesh.
I have written some impressive poems. I was invited to read for a poetry group many years ago and I think I shocked them.I know I scared a couple of them with a frightening poem about my dark side.
I have a book full of poems — and songs — called A Bus Ride to Cuba. I’ve written a couple new ones recently.
I think I write poems now and then because I dislike most poetry. I suppose I like realistic poetry, although I’m not sure what that really is.
I like Charles Bukowski’s poems. I like Richard Brautigan’s poems. I like Jack Veasey’s poems.
Much of my poetry is written with tongue in cheek. Some is not.
Now that I’ve beaten cancer, I am reconsidering what I want to do with myself. Do I resume covering Gloucester County news for my website? Do I just remain retired?
I do know that I plan to become a philosopher, so why not become a poet, as well?
Poet/philosopher has a very nice ring to it, don’t you think?