Great Minds Think Alike

Great Minds Think Alike
This is what happens when I have a free hour at my disposal. A line or two will pop into my head, those lines will suggest another, and then the next thing I know I’m working on another poem. Sometimes the poem will even rhyme, as this one, and keep a beat, though I never start out with that intention. In the case of “Great Minds Think Alike,” the lines even have the same number of syllables in each verse. Is this significant? Hardly. But it is interesting. And fun. Great Minds Think Alike I saw a poet and a wise man walking up the street, the poet wore his dinner and the wise man had bare feet. Said the wise man to the poet when each had looked my way, What further proof is needed? I’ve nothing left to say. Then the poet nodded gravely and the wise man wiped his brow, as if their lives had meaning and mine had none at all. I saw a poor man and a rich man walking up the street, the poor man was unshaven and the rich man was effete. Said the rich man to the poor man when each had looked my way, What further proof is needed? I’ve nothing left to say. Then the poor man nodded gravely and the rich man wiped his brow, as if their lives had meaning and mine had none at all. I saw a Christian and a heathen walking up the street, the Christian clutched his wallet and the heathen hated meat. Said the heathen to the Christian when each had looked my way, What further proof is needed? I’ve nothing left to say. Then the Christian nodded gravely and the heathen wiped his brow, as if their lives had meaning and mine had none at all. I saw a blind man and a lame man walking up the street, the blind man bumped a lamp post and the lame man cursed his feet. Said the lame man to the blind man when each had looked my way, What further proof is needed? I’ve nothing left to say. Then the blind man nodded gravely and the lame man wiped his brow, as if their lives had meaning and mine had none at all. I saw a farmer and a sailor walking up the street, the farmer looked like lettuce and the sailor smelled like peat. Said the sailor to the farmer when each had looked my way, What further proof is needed? I’ve nothing left to say. Then the farmer nodded gravely and the sailor wiped his brow, as if their lives had meaning and mine had none at all. I saw a mother and a daughter walking up the street, the mother’s gait was soothing and the daughter’s lips were sweet. Said the daughter to the mother when each had looked my way, What further proof is needed? I’ve nothing left to say. Then the mother nodded gravely and the daughter wiped her brow, as if their lives had meaning and mine had none at all. I saw a thinker and a schemer walking up the street, the thinker was cartoonish and the schemer was quite neat. Said the schemer to the thinker when each had looked my way, What further proof is needed? I’ve nothing left to say. Then the thinker nodded gravely and the schemer wiped his brow, as if their lives had meaning and mine had none at all. I saw a halfwit and a donkey walking up the street, the halfwit ate spaghetti and the donkey was discreet. Said the donkey to the halfwit when each had looked my way, Much further proof is needed, there’s so much more to say. Then the halfwit nodded gravely and the donkey wiped his brow, as if my life had meaning instead of none at all. Note: Poems, Slightly Used, a growing collection of work first published in my blog, Recently Banned Literature, can be found here. POETRY COLLECTIONS IN PRINT Available from Cosmopsis Books of San Francisco *Winter Poems* by William Michaelian ISBN: 978-0-9796599-0-4 US $11.95; $8.95 at Cosmopsis Books 52 pages. 6x9. Paper. Includes one drawing. San Francisco, June 2007 *Signed, numbered & illustrated copies* *Winter Poems* displays the skills and abilities of Mr. Michaelian at their most elemental level, at the bone. Wandering amidst a barren world, a world scraped bare, he plucks the full moon like fruit from the winter sky, goes mad and befriends a pack of hungry wolves, burns his poems to keep warm. He is a flake of snow, a frozen old man, a spider spinning winter webs. Spring is only a vague notion of a waiting vineyard, crocuses, and ten-thousand babies. The author is alone, musing, reflecting, at times participating. But not quite alone, for he brings the lucky reader along. I’ve been there, to this winter world, and I plan to go back. — John Berbrich, Barbaric Yawp *Another Song I Know — Short Poems* by William Michaelian ISBN: 978-0-9796599-1-1 US $13.95; $10.95 at Cosmopsis Books 80 pages. 6x9. Paper. Includes Author’s Note. San Francisco, June 2007 *Signed, numbered & illustrated copies* *Another Song I Know* is a delightful collection of brief, resilient poems. Reading them, one by one by one, is like taking a walk through our common everyday world and suddenly hearing what the poet hears: the leaves, a coffee cup, chairs — and yes, even people, singing their songs of wisdom, sweetness, and light. *— Tom Koontz, Barnwood* poetry magazine**	Also by William Michaelian POETRY Winter Poems ISBN: 978-0-9796599-0-4 52 pages. Paper. —————————— Another Song I Know ISBN: 978-0-9796599-1-1 80 pages. Paper. —————————— Cosmopsis Books San Francisco Signed copies available Main Page Author’s Note Background Notebook A Listening Thing Among the Living No Time to Cut My Hair One Hand Clapping Songs and Letters Collected Poems Early Short Stories Armenian Translations Cosmopsis Print Editions Interviews News and Reviews Highly Recommended Let’s Eat Favorite Books & Authors Useless Information Conversation Flippantly Answered Questions E-mail & Parting Thoughts *Poetry, Notes & Marginalia:* Recently Banned Literature Collected Poems by William Michaelian A Larger Life Monastery of Psalms Revelation Friends (includes French translation) Summer of Dreams Hunger Is It His Coat? The Boy Who Wrote Letters Forty Days, Forty Nights Papa’s Song (clam chowder blues) The Pilgrim’s Way A Christmas Wish The Teacher The Literary Awakening of America The Healer The Enigmatic Child What Happened to God Reading Tristram Shandy A Prefix of Obscure Meaning He Knows My Only Friend The World I Know We Do Not Need a Poem Three Short Poems The More We Are Looking For I Hear the Earth What Will I Give You? The Age of Us All I Met My Spirit Claim Denied Summer Days Greek Peppers Another Hard Day James Joyce Singing How Many Stones? At the Armenian Home The Peace Talks The Eggs of March Armenian Music If Poems Were Days Once Again I Lied Frogs One Last Thing Everywhere I Go Up Here On the Hill Pumpkins Winter View What December Said to January Winter Poems Spring Haiku How to Write a Poem, In Three Lessons The Walls Have Ears Why I Don’t Buy Grapes To French Vanilla and All the Other Flavors It Was Early Morning Haiku Someone’s Mother Fall Questions My Old Black Sport Coat The Clerk and the Windmill Roadside Distress, Part 2 Magical Realism (First Prize) Café Poetry Night: Two Poems Short Poem for Spring Short Poem for Summer I Find Him Eating Butterflies For the Sister I Never Had An Absurdist Play The Second Act Essay Of Poets and Other Things
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