The Mother of Whistler and Poets by Bob Atkinson

The Mother of Whistler and Poets

(c) 2012 Bob Atkinson

she sat there not knowing

she'd be the main attraction

in the struggle for dominance

of production over passion

those with credentials

that sat upon the pot

rarely defecated

in their erudite response

to the charge they had been given

progression of the form

learned definitions

written poorly in those stones

she sat there posing smugly

broadening appeal in her game

taunting generations of producers

to feed upon meal's grains

this poet feels her comfort

lives within her realm

watching those with letters

pushed behind their names

produce that which is abhorrent

and doesn't fit the need

of those wishing emotional content

be contained in poetry's refrains

content that has broad meaning

and pushes us to find

that soul we hide within our hearts

in the back-side of our minds