All Poets Must Die

This is very black Helen, I fear your cage has been rattled rather severely…

All poets must die, no doubt about that, but in my humble opinion, this line is wrong:
“Read by no one but the hate scavengers”
Because I read it ;-)

Read by more than the talentless…pondered by the thoughtful
Seen by more than the hate scavengers…poured over by the loving
...And felt by the souls who pour out their own.

Thanks for posting. :)

sorry … can be fairly good new start …. no matter what … must give a chance :)
..... i like this poem, too – very much – and i agree … it’s sort of ‘painful’ in some way beeing poetic (in what ever degree) ...... right …

Well perhaps the hate scavengers do but my point really was that it is not only hate scavengers reading poets.

I think we do die a little each day, with each poem but in some ways that is a kind of selflessness to risk critique, disapproval, even rejection and still be true to yourself. So yes, I think I die a little to myself each day and that can be a good, if humbling, thing. But I read what you write Helen and I know how very many people who love and admire you also read what you write, with eyes of love and acceptance. Please don’t let a few bad apples spoil it all for you!

I am living with a broken heart,
I was not challenging your feelings,
I was stating my own.
there is no question, feelings are subjective.

take care,
Lisa

so true

Oh Helen I’m not suggesting it’s your feelings that are wrong, not by any means would I suggest that, it’s just the exclusivity of that one line, I guess that’s bound to happen when you have readers who think and care :-)
I know you don’t think I’m a hate scavenger.
x

This is seriously one of the best things I’ve read for quite a while. Guess it takes one to know one and all that. Terrific work. and I must say I knew very little of the drama around your going and coming back but its nice to read your work finally after hearing so many wonderful things about you from your friends on here.

This is an amazing piece…because with each piece we write a little piece of us dies…our
words are scrawled upon the walls of life…our pain spills forth like the blood of virgins…our
hearts exposed and our poetry lets us stand naked before our readers…yes with each word
a little memory…a little hope…a little of our destiny dies!!!!! Awesome written work…def
FAV for me!!!!!!!!! xoxoxoox

excellent piece and so true…. glad to see you back..:)

Pen scars the paper scrawling wordy words, and sometimes I keep them to myself, and sometimes I through them out for the vultures, I do so love the vultures.

This one sounds very sad. It is a feeling that I get, especially when you say “and then I die a little more today.” And yes,I know what you mean when you say that the poet’s words are read by hate scavengers. I guess what the rest of your friends tried to tell you is that though there are hate scavengers out there, these ones here commenting are your friends and are there to support you. Your feelings are your feelings and right now that is what you feel. I know that soon we will have a more optimistic poet saying “And I live a little more today” for you are a fighter. Your friend, Iris

BRILLIANT HELEN!! LONG MAY YOU WRITE!! YOUR WORDS OF TRUTH ARE A DAGGER IN THE HEART OF EVIL SCAVENGERS!! WE KNOW WHO YOU MEAN AND APPLAUD YOU!!! XO

weloveyagirl

your words are a treasure to me

I feel you are expressing your feelings here in a way I don’t recognise so well – I am not in any way a poet or writer – my mind feels in pictures…
But – I do very much get an enormously deep sense of sadness and weariness from reading these words my friend, and probably that doesn’t surprise me or seem in any way ‘wrong’ or ‘bad’... as you say – whatever exactly it is to you – it just ‘is’.
Though – one of the most wonderful truths that I have come to learn (though I don’t always manage to believe it truly myself yet either) is that feelings ALWAYS change. They will never, ever stay exactly as they are… there will ALWAYS be a new one just about to arrive….
K xx

VULTURES ARE AN IMPORTANT PART OF MOTHER NATURES’ GREAT DESIGN….SCUMBAGS OR MISCREANTS IS WHAT I’D CALL THEM!!!

wow!! this is beautiful heart-felt work, driven by so much passion! love it!

i am not one to say…i just tinker or cobble as it were…but i do wish you better days to come…the poem also reminds me very much in a way of sondheims ‘every day a little death..”...

Powerful and poignant Helen! You go girl! ;~)

Poets are meant to die poor, or in someone elses war ( plagarised myself for that one ) Noce read Helen ….. Maybe we should go of to Greece and die in a war like Byron

That is Noce read, not noce, altthough it probably is…

I found my back for the briefest moment and your words…..I felt them deeply resonate a truth. We open the door to let out darkness sometimes in the hope that light will be the outcome….and on the sidelines some vultures we know will always sit and wait we brave them as they hover waiting to pick our bones….But we are compelled as poets/ writers to speak what is in our hearts for part of our being is to share with like minded souls….You are a gift Helen…I am grateful for your words XXX

that should read ” I found myself back for the briefest moment and your words….”

well said-the dead usually have such a way with words…

Summed up well…. dark days… at the end of these days comes sun, laugh and laughter… I promise you this.. xoxoxo

I personally believe that with each thing we write, a little piece of us comes back to life. Yet, writing from the dark makes for such better reading. Wonderful piece and I’m looking forward to reading more. Also, the video is amazing. Tracy Chapman is so gorgeous in all she does and Pavarotti is well, Pavarotti.

I can see it shining brightly !!!!!!!!!!!

It sounds dark Helen, It’s hard to share these feelings sometimes but often it is healing. xoxo

Amazing piece Helen! xo

I struggle with this too – it does seem to have to be this way.
But I do not know why.

I saw a quote that is supposed to be aligned with my birthday and it is
“Why is it Madmen are so often Perceptive”

Does creative and feeling drive us to be Mad? Or is the Madness what makes us who we are?
And the desire to be heard that does not quite diminish the effects of being hurt.

As you can see – I feel with you here, Helen.

Go forth and Conquer, a little death may make you stronger.

Helen, this is so true.
Each time we write – we pour parts of ourselves into our writings. We purge, we die a little…
And yet death allows us to be reborn.

I feel the same way! great great poem!

Oh I like it :) And the title makes me want to wright for one reason or the other.