No One, Is Buying Poetry Poem by Danny Draper

No One, Is Buying Poetry

Rating: 4.9


No one, is buying poetry.
You can barely give it away,
They might read it online, free,
But no one wants to buy it.
They'd rather have a mental illness or
A criminal conviction, or
Be long term unemployed, or
Live in a dodgy house
In an even dodgier suburb, or
Have failed relationships
And broken families, or
Looming hastened mortality,
But just not that.

It is failed wisdom
In the anthropocene,
It generates from self
And must be imbibed,
Inwardly digested and
Appreciated in time,
Upon absorption and
Reflection in quiet solitude.
Worse, these are words
Not derived from self!

No evidence of achievement
As success outwardly displayed,
It falls silent and is lost to
Lairs, Spivs and strutting Ponces
In the roar and glare, fleeting but primal,
Affectation rooted ostentation.
It's no one's fault, as most things
Are no one's fault,
Fashion tears and grinds its pestle
Grates its trends as roadside scrapings
Mends the way for fecund insurgents,
Churns in wake a peeling youth
Whom quickly learn
And yearn for proof, but
Alas a troubled legacy,
Maturing wrinkled poverty,
Remiss at bliss unaware of this,
No care for creeping reality
Or an absurd actuality:
Titular is this noble passing,
Pallor grows with celerity, and
It ends as it started certainly, that
No one, is buying poetry.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Valerie Dohren 30 July 2013

No-one will buy my Ebook then when I eventually get it out there - oh well, one can but try. We do enjoy each others efforts though here on PH, don't we? Enjoyed this one anyway Danny, so keep them coming.

1 0 Reply
Pradip Chattopadhyay 31 July 2013

true poet, but such is ordained.

0 0 Reply
Valsa George 31 July 2013

Though no one buys poetry, the satisfaction we get, the pleasure we derive from this 'rewardless endeavour' is amazing and worth the effort! Not many enjoy it because; It must be imbibed, Inwardly digested and Appreciated in time, Upon absorption and Reflection in quiet solitude! ! GREAT WRITE, Danny!

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Adheez Van Der Beanthz 31 July 2013

agree with Valerie and Valsa poetry created with emotion expression of honesty from the heart share, valued and recognized is the highest honor that we can expect from a poem so, no matter if it is not producing money because it was not the real purpose of our works at least this is my personal opinion More than that, this is outstanding work really enjoyed to read it thanks for sharing

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R.benjamin Abate 31 July 2013

This is a great poem and like others had said, poetry is priceless. It's our passion for poetry that drives us, not money. Only when the last tree has died and the last river has been poisoned and the last fish has been caught will we realize we cannot eat money. - Indian Proverb. Thanks.

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Shahzia Batool 08 September 2013

a true chaos...! yes, you are right...the interest in poetry is not diminished, this can be seen through a great number of membership on thousands of poetry sites and public pages...! no doubt, this is an online world time...but even then, buying or no buying, the importance of published content is unrivalled...when one goes to participate in any literary occasion, event or a festival, he is asked generally how many published books he has got on his credit...! so, in case of the absence of book-readers, the publication of book is just for one satisfaction of the poet...that yes...he is the author and owner of the book....this is enough aesthetic profit for his life-time! ! !

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Lyn Paul 15 August 2013

You could be surprised one day. Remember just how great you feel after writing it. Thank you

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Douglas Scotney 12 August 2013

living a poem badly is no incentive to open a book of them. Living one well you probably don't want to be confronted by a book of 'em. So where's the market?

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R.j. Wynn 10 August 2013

The truths you speak are very sad ones known as entertainment on the flat screen. Great poem. I enjoyed.

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Naida Nepascua Supnet 06 August 2013

Not everyone likes poetry Only those with different highly perceptions of what beauty and joy really are And so we are lucky that though we can't equal their number we are differently made. GO POETS.

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Danny Draper

Danny Draper

Kiama, New South Wales, Australia
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