i don't want this inspiration spillin'
so i'm getting a dose of intravenous dylan
i found the wellspring of springsteen
i ate big chunks of whitman and celine
guy de maupassant for breakfast and after
tom sharpe's porterhouse blues for laughter
laying there with a kama sutra knackered back
some desolation angels: much needed kerouac
if i were to die and had a choice
i'd spend my life in heaven understanding joyce
atwood, plath, the shining path and road
shelley shakespeare, a sonnet or an ode
what would my life mean without all this?
basho haiku, emily dickinson and a perfumed kiss
the universe was made when caxton set the print
before that only cave paintings gave any hint
of what beauty there was -- we were intellectually skint
those in power read to us like we were children
and only after our lessons were we filled in
les fleur de mals, the dumas club, steinbeck's every word
what is your heart made of if not stirred
by these pinnacles of a culture we take pride in?
these are the worlds many imaginations reside in
these are the olympic runners with prometheus' fire
running through time as a burning line to inspire
let it set hot seeds in your head: your neurones spark
because these are the things that save us from the dark
these are the maps to lead us out of the caves
each of these men a moses come to free the slaves
and if you do not accept the gifts offered to you
you will believe the lie of a cage and never view
the promised land which is no myth, just an unlocked head
under our feet fields of wheat spring up where we tread
we are the kings of a harvest yet to come
because our tongues are learned and we shall never be dumb
these are the keys that will part the red seas
shakespeare saw eternity and wrote us a permanent lease

Want to comment on this Poetry? Sign up to Edit Red and you will be able to comment on Poetry and get access to: Upload your own stories and poems, get readers and their feedback, promote your work...