[after Philip Larkin's poem, "This Be The Verse"]
These be the lines, Larkin's, amid
his pages and they told me all
that my own parents, in my young years, did
to me. How could he know, across the sea, in Hull?
Some of their actions were "well meant";
and some simply to demonstrate their power
upon me. Whatever was their intent,
it left me bitter, disappointed, and a lot of sour.
I was adopted, not their own
by flesh: my body and the given nature
of my soul was not that closely known
by them, and by their bumbling nomenclature.
Their surname I do not sign to my poems: instead,
I sign the more comforting . . . Starward-Led.
Like braided hair this
Like braided hair this touches the mind and heart about self and parents. Deeply moving.
here is poetry that doesn't always conform
galateus, arkayye, arqios,arquious, crypticbard, excalibard, wordweaver