“As if you could kill time without injuring eternity”

~ Henry David Thoreau, Walden

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem

Whatever can it be that people do

When not composing poetry or songs,

Sung sonnets, villanelles, their retinue,

As psalms, Magnificats for Evensongs,

An anthem, fugual score and triolet?

You say they work to make some money, pence

And pounds to keep themselves from suffering debt

Or other boring things of common sense.

You say that others play at sports or watch

Them (even more pathetic) or play games

On screens with keyboards, finding ways to botch

Existence, wasting time to spawn blank shames.

  A cricket star in Shakespeare’s time won fame

    But no one now remembers that guy’s name.

© Phillip Whidden