John Prine Photograph by Ron Baker (public domain)
We had an apartment in the city Me and Loretta liked living there Well, it’d been years since the kids had grown A life of their own, left us alone
John and Linda live in Omaha And Joe is somewhere on the road We lost Davy in the Korean war And I still don’t know what for, don’t matter anymore
You know that old trees just grow stronger And old rivers grow wilder every day Old people just grow lonesome Waiting for someone to say, “Hello in there, hello”
Me and Loretta, we don’t talk much more She sits and stares through the back door screen And all the news just repeats itself Like some forgotten dream that we’ve both seen
Someday I’ll go and call up Rudy We worked together at the factory What could I say if he asks “What’s new?” “Nothing, what’s with you? Nothing much to do”
You know that old trees just grow stronger And old rivers grow wilder every day Old people just grow lonesome Waiting for someone to say, “Hello in there, hello”
So if you’re walking down the street sometime And spot some hollow ancient eyes Please don’t just pass ’em by and stare As if you didn’t care, say, “Hello in there, hello”
Yet, some claim the words of poetry, as if anointed announcing to the world, “I know the code!”
Poetry is not code, allowing entrance only to a few fettered and packaged for the scholarly.
In the end, there is no right or wrong answer —
poetry is like dancing, if it feels good,
do it!
— kenne
I wrote this poem, March 2009. Having been part of a literary group that took pride in being a part of the
academic establishment. I love poetry. I write poetry. But I take pride in not being a part of the traditional literary establishment, having never taken formal writing classes, preferring to stay in
isolation — untrained.
Through the blogosphere, I share my unpolished poetry with other digital poets. A world where I can do so without “gatekeepers.” Many blogosphere poets, having gotten a taste of writing and sharing poetry, move on into the literary establishment seeking formal training in the academy while networking their digital world.
Many digital poets may not be winning awards but are becoming recognized by thousands of people around the globe. Poetry has become viral — yes, viral. So much so that today’s NY Times (November 8, 2015) has a front-page article, “Web Poet’s Society: New Breed Succeeds in Taking Verse Viral.” Those of us who have been writing and blogging for some time are not in the least bit surprised. Who said poetry was dead?
Grunge Art by kenne
Computer Art by kenne
