Master Poet Mark Knopfler, PIF

Master Poet Mark Knopfler

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mark_Knopfler

(c)2012 Bob Atkinson

seems here a decision needs made

should I go with the flow

or send out large waves

stand for change, or bury my thoughts

let them alone, or shake up the process

toward the shores of calm lakes of the past

tranquil mediocrity crowds out progress

keeps the emotional elements suppressed

rips out the works of the best

this lets the world stand still

and a genre fester, sadly killed

keeping the Poet as not a large man

one with soul lacking, not with talent

or, should I without remorse

no regard to safety of my name in due course

shout it out loudly even if vainly

not my style to be quiet I'll hammer it plainly

in my mind

current establishment can't hold its own

gives accolades to drivel 

to their own they throw bones

if this shakes some conventional airs

my thoughts wildly passioned carried by stares

as I look at what we have produced

our libraries and bookstores lie dusty unused

if it costs me so dearly in getting support

then so be it, at least have not lost my goals

to swim in a school of sardines so aligned

a shark only smiles as his teeth cut spines

here's the dilemma

please help me decide

which course leads toward harmony

away from the divide

which way to proceed

which route to take

whose feelings do I hurt

when I stand up and state

an establishment that feeds on egos ferment

an old way of looking at those older precepts

cannot, will not, move toward the future

without redirection in assumptions of usage

poetry, hereafter, garners much fame

when acknowledge as useful within all our brains

prior to now, we see those who use

words with some useless, careless attitude

they call themselves poets

even have credentials of note

from org's and associations of folks

who seem important and fixed

with attitudes of the stately mix

although their impact to life is just nil

would not in all earnest from them get a thrill

can't lift wings of a gnat their words have no power

don't garner approval from a younger crowd

from the masses of people of different classes

both young and old, the lads and the lasses

some very timid some loud some bold

some learned some savvy some overly stoned

they call themselves talent

but talent eludes all of their works

which they publish though useless

walls of halls in apartments of brick

are lined with vanity's sickly garbage tricks

that which they see as oh so unique

makes some like me think they are dopey not slick

they give out as presents

to all relatives and friends

their "great works" toiled

many night times in bed

their friends buy their books

only when cornered

relatives smirk smugly

when not rightly sober

their wives smile sweetly

when reading diatribes

not wanting to work

on soothing hurt pride

so.....here in this verse

I do now declare

a quiet war of words

about those who don't care

that poetry in form

has many central themes

can come in all forms

from whispers to screams

from spoken to sung for anyone

as long as it's words shouted or written

and brings out emotional feelings

it is poetry which has useful meaning

if it doesn't bring out emotional bursts

laughter, singing or some such loud spurt

elation or sadness or wicked gladness

with

some form of confusion or sad illusions

then poetry it isn't and a poet he's not

and his cheap self image hasn't bought

him the title which he gave himself

that Willy Wonka toy on his belt

he or she must

in order to be Master of Poetry

write with the Master Poet's hand

must have purpose and grand emotion

to the word of mankind have pure devotion

I leave you example

a good refrain

by Mark Knopfler

a Master Poet of fame

if your words don't match his in depth

then you're not a poet and thus you should quit

leaving the verse to those who can write

who understand the meaning of words not so trite

"........You get a shiver in the dark
It's raining in the park but meantime
South of the river you stop and you hold everything
A band is blowing Dixie double four time
You feel alright when you hear that music ring


well now You step inside but you don't see too many faces
coming in out of the rain to hear the jazz go down
competition in other places
but the horns are blowin' that sound
Way on down south way on down south London town...."

(Sultans of Swing, by Mark Knopfler)