We have been exhorted by some wise man to 'listen to the poet'. I expect that his intent was to encourage people to leap onto a higher plane of existence and meaning. Man as simply a complex bag of atoms and their inter-reactions surely loses inspiration after a time.
Listen to the Poet
I flashed back to my formative teenage years and realized that I daily 'listened to the poet'. However, I really didn't pay too much attention to what the poets of my generation were saying. I preferred groovin' to the percussion and heady bass lines while tokin' on a fat doobie.
Recently, I have been tuning to an area radio station that plays many of the poetic songs that kept me so hip back in the day. I have taken the time and effort to listen to the specific poetic lyrics that plumbed the depths of humanity. And... Holy caa-rapppp! No wonder our parents thought we were idiots... we were! What the hell were we thinking?
However, I did recall some poetry put to music upon which to hang my hat of humanity and not be embarrassed:
"Koomalotta, koomalotta beefsteak!"
"No, no, no, no not the beefsteak!"
"Hexameenie, Zolomeenie, ooo-walla-wallameenie,"
"Hexameenie, Zolomeenie, ooo-walla-wall."
"Bee-billie oten-doten, beau-beau bedeeten-dotten, beau-beau bedeeten-dotten..."
Heavy!! And therein lies the reason to hope... the key to life.
Such poetic inspiration is not limited to my generation. I can even remember poetry that gave Mom a reason to live. (The Lord knows that none of us kids did!)
"Mares eat oats and does eat oats and little lambs eat ivy."
"A kid'll eat ivy, too, wouldn't you?"
Gentle readers, I just can't wait for that 5:00 AM alarm to ring!