Mary Grabar, Unlimited

Today's poem is brought to you by the prompting of one of my dance partners, Verley.

But first, here is my poem to him:

To Verley:

There is a time to be silly,
and that's while dancing.

There is a time to discuss poetry
and that's between dances.

Groan...that is so-o-o bad! But Verley, who was at Mentone last weekend, will know what I'm talking about. He may even be able to make it rhyme.

Well, Verley, between dances, has been mentioning "Ars Poetica" by Archibald MacLeish, and so I looked it up and liked it so much, I've decided to copy it for your reading pleasure here. I think also that this should be a poem read before all the shouting, radical poets at open mics get up there. Enjoy!

'Ars Poetica'

A poem should be palpable and mute
As a globed fruit

Dumb
As old medallions to the thumb

Silent as the sleeve-worn stone
Of casement ledges where the moss has grown -

A poem should be wordless
As the flight of birds

A poem should be motionless in time
As the moon climbs

Leaving, as the moon releases
Twig by twig the night-entangled trees,

Leaving, as the moon behind the winter leaves,
Memory by memory the mind -

A poem should be motionless in time
As the moon climbs

A poem should be equal to:
Not true

For all the history of grief
An empty doorway and a maple leaf

For love
The leaning grasses and two lights above the sea -

A poem should not mean
But be

-- Archibald MacLeish