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January, 2008

Father Goose

Askew: A Poetic Point Of View?
To a better understanding of an elusive genre
By  Charles Ghigna

In a world that buttonholes, typecasts and labels, poets are an elusive breed.
"Why do people tend to view poets and poetry as a breed unto themselves? What makes poetry writers so much different than all of the other genre writers?" Anon

A Poet Isn't Somebody

A poet isn't somebody
who says the sky
is just another blue
holding down the ground
as though the ground
were on a hinge and could
flap up or maybe come off,
scalped by some Indian god.

A poet isn't somebody
who goes hunting to kill
or the one who takes dogs
and guns and camouflaged hats.
He's the one who takes off
his glove to touch the stream
the others cursed because it trickled
over their boot tops when they crossed it.

A poet isn't somebody
who looks at clocks
before he sleeps
though he learns their
anxious call can eat
through walls, and dreams.

A poet isn't somebody
who tells he's a poet.
He's somebody who asks
if he may hike your property
to follow where the moon
may rise tonight.

Invisible Ink

It is in you
and you know it
like your name.

It pounds you out
upon the white sheets
of solid bond.

It rattles your back door
of the house
where you hide Truth.

It scrawls your Every Day
upon the walls
you live between.

It covers
where you've been
with what you were.

Poem As Priest

Like the good Catholic boy
who tells his all
to the patient priest,

the poet pours his soul
into the poem,
confesses his passions,

his private fears,
that flow like lamb's blood
upon the pure white page

that passes sentence
after sentence
upon his sins

and turns his
into prayer.

Poem Child

The muse comes
like a lover
to your side,

then leaves
you alone
to bear it.

Poetry Is Not

Penned to the page
Waiting for us to admire;
It is only a lonely thought
Caught by tears on fire.

Who Is This Poet

whose poems
keep running ram
page after page
through my books
and magazines,
whose name looks
liked spilled
alphabet soup,
whose little
bird-like lines
keep chirping
it's me
it's me
it's me.IN Icon

Charles Ghigna is the author of more than thirty award-winning books of poetry from Random House, Harry N. Abrams, Inc., Simon & Schuster, Hyperion, Scholastic and other publishers. These and other books by Charles Ghigna can be found at

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© Freelance Writing Organization - International 1999-2049

IN This Issue
The Long Life Of Poetry
Marketplaces For Your Poetry
Haiku: Highest Art
What Am I Doing Wrong?
Lyrically Speaking
Writing Poems
The Mind Of A Poet
A Poem Is A Little Path
Seeing Like A Poet
Speaking In Tongues (Excerpt)

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Writerís Block
The path to inspiration starts
Upon the trails weíve known;
Each writerís block is not a rock,
But just a stepping stone.

Poetry Is Not
Penned to the page
Waiting for us to admire.
It is only a lonely thought
Caught by tears on fire.

Silent Echoes
A quiet rhyme upon a page
Is what a poet gives;
Some gentle words whispered in trust
To see if memory lives.

Bard From Deadlines
What makes a poem finally work
Is not the time it takes;
Itís how the poet used the muse
To prophet from mistakes.

Be Mused
The art and craft of poetry
Are not so far apart;
The craft comes from the cunning,
The rest comes from the heart.

Fine Vintage
Donít plant your poem on the page
As though youíre hanging drapes;
Itís shape and flow should come and grow
Like wild summer grapes.

Getting It Write
Writers write what they know best,
Their passions, fears, and dreams;
Writers rarely write about
What other call their ďthemes.Ē

Double Vision
A writerís life is paradox,
Itís more than what it seems;
We write of our reality,
The one inside our dreams.

The echo of a promise,
The thunder of a sigh,
The music of a memory,
A child asking why.

Letter Perfect
Twenty six symbols arranged on a page
Can send a soul to heaven or torment it with rage,
Can free a fragile world or hold it in its net--
The power and the magic of the mighty alphabet.

The Write of Passage
The jump from writing just for fun
To getting paid for it
Begins when you first realize
You know youíll never quit.

It is not the magic of his wings
That sets us free from our bond.
It is the muse within ourselves
That lets our words lift us beyond.

Photo Poet
Consider your mind the darkroom,
Consider your life the lens,
Consider your eye the camera
On whose focus the poem depends.

Rising Moon
A poem is a rising moon
Shining on the sea,
An afterglow of all we know,
Of all we hope to be.

Star Light
Writing a poem,
Reaching a star,
In making good art
We find who we are.

Spider Web
A poem is a spider web
Spun with words of wonder,
Woven lace held in place
By whispers made of thunder.

The final draft upon the screen,
At last my poemís through;
A verse of only four short lines--
I rewrote twenty-two!

Read All Of Charles Ghigna's Poetry at

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All Rights Reserved. Copying in any way strictly forbidden.
Our Disclaimer Is Based Upon McIntyre's First Law: "Under the right circumstances, anything I tell you may be wrong."