The Poet

tawaraya sotatsu and honami koetsu

tawaraya sotatsu and honami koetsu

The poet
but sings to himself
in his nook or cranny
sings in a soft voice

No notes
capture his thoughts
his eye is deaf his ear
blind and his tongue
but babbles

His hand
alone shapes images
formed within his mind
one letter at a time
one word

And that
but a poor synonym
for all it is he would say
were he free enough
to roar

The poet
but sings to himself
on a rock by the shore
serenades sea`swells
rolling in

rolling out
each sea`water drop
a bottle holding a word
or some line of verse
sprung free

“Yama biko no
Ai to yomu made
Tsuma goi ni
Ka naku yama be ni
Hitgori nomi shite”

“The cry of the stag
Is so loud in the empty
Mountains that an echo
Answers him as though
It were a doe.”



About Peter Notehelfer

I'm a retired people person who now finds the time to watch the little details of the world without worrying about being watched by anyone . . . I live on an Island north of Seattle with my wife named Ellen, a yellow dog named McGee, a yellow cat named Gatzby, and four fine chickens . . . I read fiction, bake bread, smoke salmon, and fish whenever the weather allows . . . Oh, and yes, I try to write a poem every day simply to avoid senility!
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11 Responses to The Poet

  1. ebbtide says:

    ‘were he free enough to roar’ – just WOW!


  2. bwcarey says:

    the poet does not need to roar, his words leave a trace in the soul, that he goes over again and again…


  3. Fantastic poetry Peter (although I did have a little roar on my blog this morning)


  4. deuxiemepeau says:

    powerful and poignant, bravo!


  5. crow says:

    Really beautiful


  6. I roar whenever I damned well please – whereas you are so much more civilized, my friend

    Liked by 1 person

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