The Rise of the Persian Bard

Narrow-minded art thee, if thou thinkest

That poor art I and poetry.

Since sarcastic frugality lies in thy thought, 

I shan’t strive to mark thee wrong.

But my purpose and promise shall be to put thee outwrong:

First, as prejudiced your mind is 

You should wash off its partiality

Of not what poetry is but who a poet is?!

Melet be honest to tell thee

A poet is one composed of Whitman’s grasses

As to come to celebrate his inclusionary tongue

And to come to sing his exclusionary mind. 

Sec, thy mind without heart should note

That when a poet cometh onto the stage,

He cometh to make obselete the reality behind 

By a concoction of worldly elements 

That arise with him as to be supportive.

Like thou shouldest combine a variety: 

Like Anahit’s bottomless pitch

That waters every thirsty 

Better than Khayyam’s wine alone,

Like Avicenna’s sagacious beard

That is the solution 

To all thy health scares,

And like Shakespeare’s Fair Youth 

That sets on fire

The loins of the beholder

Whether be they gal or gay. 

For the poet cometh alone

But he bringeth ten thousand along,

As said the guileful sage surnamed Angelou.

Third, thy mind with no hearty interference

Should see the art brought to life in poetic pen.

As in how it lies in the poet’s capability

To erect a bridge in rivalry with 

What a master builder is capable of.

From the frugality of thy mind to a frugal beauty,

A poet can write and amend thine humor: 

Hast thou ever heard one

So bold and bare

To construct a struct like the rise of a Persian bard

From naught to aught;

From just a frugal thing cometh a gigantic ring,

For a poet is the centre 

That bringeth together

All the communities of black and white 

To celebrate the wholeness of the God

And sing the tune of the population in bloom.