As music is a solace, so is verse,
At least for some of us that have this vice
That has its virtue, more than smoking does
Or all the things that now distract our minds
And so are used to soothe the jangled nerves
That need the numbing that these things provide.
And I confess that I have written lines
Not only when inspired but also when
The madness and the din that is around
Had made me seek my solace—not in drink,
But in the rhythms and the stillness that
I’ve often found in writing lines of verse.
Poetry and Truth I have expressed at times, in lines of verse, The things that I could never say in prose. And hopefully the ones who read those lines Will find, among them, here and there, a truth. There are those truths that most agree are facts— The features of the flowing outer world. And then then there are the truths we find within— That each may feel but none of us can show. And some of these at least we can depict With words or other symbols, recognized By those who’ve known the thing we refer to. And poetry can often aid in this. It might have been that in the distant past, When mind and speech were more uncluttered, words Had more of weight—so speech was more like verse. But then we lost that ancient, artless art. So now we find this mainly not in speech Or written prose, but now and then in verse— Returning, as it were, to primal speech And so to clarity and speaking truth. But surely verse can also serve the ends Of those who lie, for reasons of their own. And so it is with everything. And yet We still can read a line and thrill to truth. 2018 December 29th, Sat. Brooklyn, New York