Resisting The P Word Poem by Dean Meredith

So you write a few poems
And think you’re a poet
Then a voice says
Don’t be too hard on yourself
You don’t know whose voice
God’s, yours
Maybe a team effort
Could it be madness?
Or enlightenment
The latter unlikely
And the critics say
Where’s the nature?
And you say
It’s there
And you don’t want to say
Anymore
But you’re supposed to be
A poet
Aren’t you?
Oh
Just a hobby
You say
Just a bit of
Temporary madness
You say
Oh
So is that what art is?
A bit of temporary
Madness
Or is it?
How about a bit of?
Temporary inspiration
From God or not
It’s a page full of
Question marks
And a life
Nonetheless
It’s imperfect
And wonderful
All at the same time