Book By Its Cover Poem by Leaking Pen

Never Judge with prejudice
A book by its cover
Like wisdom lost on dust
Or pin down a poem to its title.
Or like a mind's eye blind
And cannot perceive
The existence of rivers
Flowing underground.
Or understand that a humble beginning
Are but wings to fly to new shores
Or a man of poverty
Is not from genius deprive.
And life in winter does exist
Feverishly, under frozen lakes.
Prejudice must be put to the test
To keep justice and equality
In humanity alive
By asking the question:
What if the wheels are turned around?
And one is at the receiving end of prejudice?
A title does not make a poem
But a poem is its many titles
And to dig deeper to find its hidden treasure.
A river's life begins
From humble beginnings
Witness the mighty Mississippi
It trickles down from a small stream in Itasca Park
From Minnesota land of 10,000 lakes
Should we dismiss the Mississippi's river source?
At first glance as unimpressive or diminutive?
And try to cut its flow…
Might as well erase the Mississippi river
From USA geology, and…

From Little wheat seeds come big things
They supply the world with bread and donuts.
I can hold few grains in the palm of one hand
Should I dismiss them based on their small size or shape?

And here comes my big finale
Like in Beethoven's 9th symphony
With my poetic C major victory chord
I wish I could tap into Beethoven's genius
To end my poem with a majestic coda
This is poetry after all…
Unlike a symphony where music
Penetrates the soul directly without a filter,
Stanzas in poetry
Need intense light for the eyes to read
And gifted ears to hear each beat
And active minds to connect the dots
And above all inspiration not interpretation
To understand a poem behind its title.


April 14th 2012
Copyright Leaking Pen 2012
Rev Nov 9th 2014