Poetic Reflections: ode to a poem

No matter what anyone may say, it is our belief that Poetry is not dead. We are a family of poets, and we contend that the world will always need more verse — whether on page or stage, under a beret, recited in music or whatever form. Poetry survives, and don’t you forget it!

Rafael, our resident poetmaster, expresses verse in volumes. Noél, when he applies himself to something other than “techno-babble”, is an eloquent thinker in his own right. Myself, I tend to stir poetic language and license into my prose.

Herewith, however, for the sake of poetry for the sake of poetry alone, I shall ascribe to myself the oft-neglected purpose of crafting new stanzas that observe life on this ball of water and dust as only poetry can. Anyway, I kind of need more lyric lines to begin each chapter of my nonfiction series LA PIÑATA, since expanding the project to seven books.

(Correction, make that nine.)

In honor of my first “poetic reflections” column, I present two offerings . . . an old poem and a new . . . about poetry! Read them in good health.