License to Quill by Davina Marconis
I wrote an epic poem a few years back that I have been revising for submission. I'm planning to submit a book of poetry (it's amazing I have this much) for publication soon. This is a piece of the first poem (which is extremely long) that will front the book of poetry. The poem is written in the voice of a young woman living on the streets whose poem was found buried in the bottom of a dumpster one day (supposedly by me):

Mr. Gregor told me my poem was powerful
and told me to keep working on it.
I told him it was finished
but he told me all poems are works in progress
As are all lives
A life is just a work in progress
until one dies.
And then it’s done
So was Socrates a work in progress until
he took the swig of Hemlock in his chambers?
What was the finished product
but a product of another?
What will be my end product
but a product of another?
Will there be a Plato to cherish my thoughts?
Or a Nietsche to explain how wrong I was?
What did Socrates get for bringing his wisdom
to the world
Socrates
Whose knowledge begot Plato
Whose knowledge begot Aristotle
Whose knowledge begot Alexander.
Who took over the entire known, free world.
In only a few generations
were the teachings of Socrates so lost?
Why change the world when the world
will probably do the same to me?

Stumble It!