A poet’s share is words in twine,
a lion’s scare is roar in time.
A wise man’s vice is pride of self,
a woman’s touch is good for health.
The love of life of loving things,
the life of virtue beats disease,
Let it all go, if you all please,
let these things go and keep with me,
A node of thought is thought too much,
a thought of worry can defeat such,
A glare A stare A thought for you,
how many eyes have fought here too.
A young girl’s breast, a sweet girls kiss,
the taste of honey drips from sweet lips.
Such and such and such and stew,
Love with love what love can do,
When evil dies all good arises,
death to violence and peace surmises,
Read a book and see what time is.
Life alone of suffering,
or life of friends that nothing brings,
It would be fun for me to think,
If all the poets could compete,
If all the writers could act as men,
if all the artist saw to the end.
If all thought died, I thought I think,
I’d like to view art as the sea.
To set the scale on art yet shown,
to rate the work on truth alone,
Get these thoughts all out I think,
get them out and watch what art brings.
To view the work as what man do,
and cease to judge based on your view,
To accept a thought a thought I think,
to rate the poet by his own ink.
To see the work as his work do,
and ignore the man who captures you,
For all the artists think alike,
all great thinkers have a sight.
All great minds are troubled too,
and all great judges judge those too.
How nice the thought, the thought I think,
how nice the day when poets drink.
To the rhymes of words of words forgotten,
ignoring views of what was blotted.
And knowing what matters is what words means,
This is not sameness, or re-la-ting.
This is to say all art will show much,
including truth and injustice.
Sin of evil, good in God, art is the vessel that man has got.
– Thomas M. Watt