Influence Runs Wild and Deep Without the Pink Sheep
Influence Runs Wild and Deep Without the Pink Sheep
My parents accidentally built the temple
Bukowski was the first to knock on the door
loud enough for me to hear
in came a rush of a hundred nameless street poets
that ripped me apart
Hesse and Gibran helped put me back together
Thompson made sure a few bolts were lose
spare parts missing forever
as I evolved, Nietzsche held the microscope
to make sure even this growth was challenged
living an endless question
Whitman came too late
he was supposed to be
a cornerstone
along with Emmerson & Thoreau
Hemmingway still circles on the outskirts
maintaining distance
making sure that I know he’s there
Fante happened to be one of a few
that showed up right on time
kindred and subtly sweet
savage honesty
needed most
while the muse was out and over
slinking in the shadows with my confidence
the other launguages beckon
and I dare and I dance
on time’s wish
there came poets from the Far East
Unkowing to my city’s streets
but they smoked
with me just the same
and I still don’t know the french
but I must thank Rilke for being
the gatekeeper to my childhood
and unlocking it to me
And there are others
countless others
probing my brain, wiring
electric in my veins
an unquenchable thirst
a hole in my head and soul
with only one answer
to seek
to seek
to seek
to create
to give up
and begin tomorrow
all over again