Come Young Poet - An Invitation

Come young poet -
author of tripping rhymes,
and plunging depths of agony -
come sit on my virtual patio and
I will listen to you read.
And then tell me plainly,
for I am as thick as wood,
just what it is your
words intend and your images portray.
Explain to me what triggered
these forlorn expressions
and cries of anguish in
your�emerging�life;
these intimate�clouded pictures
and double shaded meanings,
given such strong expression
in your running verse.

Come young poet,
come sit on my virtual patio and
I will listen to you read,
for I am your unintended audience,
the serendipity of your lifting voice.
Unintended I may be,
but I stand within earshot,
and am no passive listener.
You owe me – explanation at least -
allowing for my slowness to comprehend.
Think of all that you have risked,
seeking a public to address,
and lead me through the
thickets of your creative mind;
I have no guide but you
in the otherworld of your design.

Come young poet,
come sit on my virtual patio and
I will listen to you read.
Read me the pain of growing -
when the Maker’s instructions
seem not to make sense.
Read me the blight of misunderstandings –
when all your relationships seem dead.
Read me your confusions when hormones rage -
and every changing hour is a Coney Island of the mind. �+
But above all –
Above all –
Read me the hope that I know lies hidden
just beyond the edge of your tomorrow.
Read me that horizon event
that I may share in the joy
of your expectations.
For I am your unintended audience,
who by serendipity
hears your young and lifting voice.
And I am not passive
in the listening, but rejoice in the event.

By James Gagiikwe � 2007

Author's note:

+ line taken out of context from A Coney Island of the Mind, Lawrence Ferlinghetti, 1958.

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