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Poetry by Rachel A. Gold

I Write Poems

Drew Hurley

I write poems to people. That is I write by inspiration. I do not follow a set pattern or procedure. Things inspire me sometimes, but more often than not, I receive my inspiration from people. Usually this spark is provided by a friend, and usually the moment of inspiration will come while I am watching my friend do something.

There are patterns to these flashes of insight; these visions of awareness. They have come when I have felt that I had an absolutely -- positively -- total view of this personís motivation and purpose for life. I have seen, in that flash of illumination, a glimpse of goodness in the soul of another human being.

I respect good people more than words can express. But, I am a teacher, a craftsman of words for the purpose of communicating concepts and a great quantity of weighty information. So, in my fumbling, groping, hesitant way, I try to offer the most beautiful tribute that I can imagine. I write a poem to commemorate the occasion of this great good. I write poems out of honor and respect.

I write to people. I write them with the words which I believe will create a mental image in your mind sufficient for you to experience a very certain and special feeling.

Poetry is feelings. Lots of different feelings. Joy. Hatred. Sadness. Ecstasy. Disappointment. Hunger. Sorrow. Pain. Pleasure. And even more personal feelings like: love. Caring. Respect and admiration. Most often, I write poems to celebrate feelings of love.

I write poems to people. I write them to you out there. I especially write poems to you. Writing, like this, is a very lonely act. It is an expression of communication from one human being to another; a plea for recognition and understanding. It is a prayer that asks for your consciousness of your own behavior and feelings.

I write poems to you. Yes, YOU. That individual reading these words -- these precious ideas that these simple alphabetic symbols represent. I write them for you; you who are translating these characters-in-a-line into visual vignettes that convey an impression, an idea, a concept, and a feeling. I write them to you because I want to challenge your intellect. I want you to notice what I have to say.

I write poems to people. I write them to you sitting there at a poetry reading listening to this man standing here before you reading from this page. However ironic this description may sound to you, I still want you to perceive these words, and sounds, as being genuine and sincere. I want you to care about me. I already care about you. Otherwise, I would not be here.

I write poems to the people that I talk to; to my friends, wherever they are. I write them for all of you because I want all of you to know that I care very much for each of you, and that I want very much for ALL of you to care very much about yourselves.

I am a very special person. I have a very special gift; I know that I can spread love with the words that I write. But I am no more special than anyone else. I am no more special than you. Indeed, you are special, too. Each of you. Personally. I AM talking to you; to that human being who is hiding inside your very own skin: YOU ARE VERY SPECIAL.

You are part of this universe. You not only have a right to be here; you have a need to be here. There IS a reason why you are on this earth. I urge you to find it. Indeed, I pray that you find it.

I write to you. I want to tell you, in vivid and explosive scenarios that graphically convey to you both a mental image and an emotional reaction. In that reaction, in that instant of feeling, you are in tune with the very essence of your soul. In that instant of recognition, I want you to realize how good you are.

I write poems to honor the people that I care about. I consider it a token of my appreciation. Mere words CANNOT express the spirit of my feelings. So, I offer you this verbal bouquet as a poor substitute, to commemorate the occasion -- for both of us -- when I saw the goodness in your soul.

Donít be smug. You -- out there reading and listening to these words. What makes you think I havenít seen the goodness in your soul, also?

I write poems to lots of people.

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Tuesday, 04-May-2010 14:47:48 EDT