I want to write a poem that’s a meal for
the hungry while constricting throats of
those who grab more than they can use.
I want to write a sharp-toothed poem that
can’t be muzzled, a poem that’s a balm
to the powerless, a bomb to warmongers.
I want to write a poem that frees dazed
slaves as it relegates troublesome gods
to knickknack shelves to gather dust.
I want to write a poem persistent as
dandelion that likewise has medicinal
properties and brightens earth.
I want to write a poem that leaves home
empty-handed but can make its way
wherever it happens to land.
I want to write a poem that’s solar-
powered as it swiftly slithers through
leaves of grass.
I want to write a poem that feels at home
in virgin forest and allows the ancient
ones to share their forbearance.
I want to write a poem without ambition
that falls from the tree because it is ripe,
in tune with Ma Nature’s agenda.
I want to write a spry poem that can hop
an electric fence to get where it needs to
go on a frosty morning.
I want to write a poem that, once born,
is neither complacent nor afraid
to take a side.
I want to write a secret poem that,
carefully folded, fits inside the secret
pocket of your favourite bag.
I want to write a poem that loves
what is, does not fear death but
may have more to say hereafter.
I want to write a poem without any
packaging that requires disposal in
some distant or non-existent state.
I want to write a poem welcome
in your bed, touching you just how
you’ve needed to be touched.
I want to write a poem with a sweet
aftertaste. Let’s say rosewater
Turkish delight.
I want to write a poem that finally
floods and carries the leaf of your life
to the forgotten island of Renewal.
—
Allan Lake, originally of Saskatoon, Canada, has lived in Vancouver, Cape Breton Island, Ibiza, Tasmania and Melbourne. Lake has won Lost Tower Publications (UK) Comp, Melbourne Spoken Word Poetry Festival & ELwood Poetry Comp. Latest poetry chapbook (Ginninderra Press) ‘My Photos of Sicily’.