From Page to Stage

Go easy with the cleverness – the crowd
is tired enough just getting there. No tricks -
they’ve all paid to be your witting stooges.
Announce your syndrome so they needn’t guess,
and when you feel emotion dripping out,
start rhyming tightly as a tourniquet.
Forget allusion, count your syllables,
your heartbeats, be a counter to the herd.
As long as prayer still rhymes with Finisterre
sound truth will be your saviour, mark my word.
So leave them with a melody to hum,
a simple tune that rises like grey scum,
but hidden in that earworm there’s a hook
subliminally marketing your book.

Tim Love

 
If you have any thoughts about this poem,  Tim Love would be pleased to hear them