"There Is No Poetry In The World"

"There is No Poetry in the World"
by Joe Leo


there is no poetry in the world.
there is no romance in the images before my eyes;
no grandiose metaphors to describe those images;
no clever words to communicate beauty that is not present;
no rolling meadows, no dandelions, no all-encompassing nature.
I am not a poet sitting on the hillside, listing for the echo
of the voice of God or gods or nymphs or nature itself
in the valley below.

there is no truth in my words.
there is no deep meaning in these verses you read;
no declarations of love to impossible beauty;
no testaments to the indomitable human spirit;
no smug odes to ancient myths or heartfelt songs of passion.
I am not a conduit for the joys and pains and hopes and fears
of my generation or my country or even of the pathos
in my soul.

there is no adventure in my life.
there are no tales for me to tell of climbing towering mountains;
no romantic conquests of native women on faraway isles;
no life-or-death struggles of man against nature;
no astounding revelations to excite a future biographer.
I am not one of those big game-hunting paragons
of masculinity, nor am I a refined gentleman poet of old,
in whose lives I have sought inspiration.

there is no poetry in my soul.
there are no verses whose words would capture my heart;
no lines with words of dancing grace like music without sound;
no odes to dig deep into my mind and pull forgotten memories like pearls;
no short, witty limericks to make me smile, or nod in recognition of their truth.
I am not the poet I once thought I was, and the words I write now are ghosts
of inspirations that have died long ago; yet still haunt me now and then
in the way only a poem can.

3/5/2006