Yes, I BET whoever said that wishes to remain anonymous.
In fact, here is a picture of him.
If he doesn't wear the paper bag over his head, he is unable to venture out of his front door for fear of being ridiculed.
Poetry is thoughts that breathe, and words that burn.
Poetry is boned with ideas, nerved and blooded with emotions, all held together by the delicate, tough skin of words.
Here is a poem. A poem that I love.
If a boy must wonder
If a boy must wonder,
let him recall
not the lightning grace of falcons,
the dizzying aeronautics, Darwin's finch,
the voyage of ancients
who saw farther, whose charts and sails
and bubbly telescopic minds
brought ashore hope
a charioting god to the moon
even a rogue dream of stars
once birthed the possibility of flight.
Leon Yuchin Lau
Don't you DARE compare this blog to poetry.