I cry tears of bitter pain and sorrow: <br />One says you write prose and claim it is verse, <br />The other asks, is it only autobiography? <br />And one more accuses me of just recording <br />Good observations, nothing poetic whatsoever. <br /> <br />I think of that Quarterly with Keats, <br />And of Shelley’s passionate defence — <br />Where is my Adonais? but I should die first! <br /> <br />Separately, my verses, like Basho’s haikus <br />Undergo more revisions. <br /> <br />Last week on tour in Delhi, I read <br />Modern Indian poetry, searing lines like <br />‘Splashes a handful of moonlight over her body’ <br />And had to confess white spaces between my words <br />Look and sound more poetic than my words.<br /><br />Daniel Trevelyn Joseph<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/blank-spaces/
