Monday, July 05, 2010

Thanks, Poet.

"Why did you call him a poet?"
she nudged him.
"His lines didn't rhyme and his words were so plain."

A faint smile.
"His soul."

"Oh? So not a REAL poet."

"The only real poet. His soul moved me without gloves, gazed at me without shades and heard me in my silence. He is a poet that gives for others, not a poet that gives for himself."

5 comments:

the sabra said...

Ok now in some weird way - and I beg you not to ask for explanation - this is dedicated to Chaya F.

Anonymous said...

Wow. I am honored.

Thanks, saba :)

the sabra said...

That's savta for you ;)

(ok ok i'm so bad i know :p)

Anonymous said...

Sorry, was on my phone, and typos happen.

Either way, I am grateful.

Chaya F

the sabra said...

I love when posts like this emerge.
Thanks, Kel. (heehee snort, i'm sucha mishugeneh)