Poetry is man’s free will,
It guides him but allows him to be forever free as the sweet evening breeze on a hill,
His thoughts he can express,
Not confined to the body of a doll and her clothes that he must dress,
Poetry is free and roams with time,
Religion is culture that keeps man confined,
Religion is man’s chain: close knitted, plain,
His birth mark, branded by parentage, again, again
Religions are prose, straightforward without decoration,
The commandments of poetry, are there any?
Laws that govern the thoughts of man?
Are there any?
Are there days of poetry?
If my friend Sir Poesy were able to able to speak, He would ask, what is obedience?
I try to be a disobedient poet, said Les Murray,
He is disobedient and He is obedient,
I am Sir Poesy,
I was never born with a religion,
I revere the wheel of Dharma,
But it does not cease compress me,
I revere the cross but they never cease to nail me to it,
I revere the Angel Moroni but it calls the others to destroy me,
I revere the OM, without beginning or end but yet it seeks to bring my end,
I was never slave master nor was I ever a slave,
And I am not as Sir Poesy, I am reality the cultures of the world are solely based on me,
The bold meaning in my name to bind and never set free,
I am slave master and everyone belongs to me,
I am not poetry and that much is true,
For the difference is, unlike poetry I do not exist inside of you.
Comment what you think guys!!!
