Is There a Poet out there?

is there a poet out there, steven humphreys, prose, poetry, poems

I was wondering

who to

ask this question

tonight at 10:40 PM

but, I couldn’t find that person

so, I asked myself


because I could find where I was

to ask me

and, I will ask you


because you are here

Is there a poet out there who loves his life

exactly the way it is?

if we write poetry we are poets

whether we’re paid or not


don’t we know the answer already?

It seems the greats of the writing world

had pretty miserable lives

some which ended in suicide

because of drugs and alcohol

or they smoked themselves to


and maybe things haven’t changed

that much

for these artists

these days

Did or do they take things a bit too seriously?

You never know until you are in their shoes,

but that’ll never happen and we will never know how anyone truly feels

except ourselves

but, so many of us are confused

and writing things down

tends to make us feel better

and sort things out

So, we’re back to square one,

aren’t we?

You can only know if you are happy with your own lot in life,


sometimes you win

sometimes you lose

sometimes you are happy

sometimes you are sad

but, maybe too many of us are too sad

rather than happy

and have lost more than won

in life

it happens all too often

In the grand theme of things

it doesn’t really matter if we get rich

or become famous

It would only feed our egos

and then we would die someday

and all the kids would be fighting over the money

and hate each other

because of our money

people get greedy after someone dies

and stab each other in their backs

I know, it happened to me

father marked me off the will

creepy brothers of mine

Oh, and that uncle

miserable people

there wasn’t much anyway

I was glad to see a couple of them

sue each other


it was worth it

reading the will

where it said

I got


That thing that matters to us is how we feel

most of the time it doesn’t matter to someone else

no one can know how we feel but us


to us


all of us go to the same place when we die

wherever that state of nothingness is…

rich or poor

powerful or not

we all die

hopefully, we go somewhere

with our consciousness intact

so we don’t get too lonely


no one knows

it is not allowed

because that’s the plan

we’ll never know

until we get there

whether it’s eternal darkness

or light

but, until then, we better start having some fun

even a lot of it

wouldn’t hurt

it’s kind of neat

writing this


that’s fun for me

hope you like it on your end over there

where you are sitting…

it’s more than a hobby to me

it’s almost an obsession

again, I don’t have a clue why

even though I should…

but, you have to be careful with your activities until that dreadful day comes

in the meantime…

doing dangerous things can get you maimed or killed

by standing on the seat of your motorcycle with one leg up in the air

headed for a mac truck

better not drink too much and lose that liver

you might not get a replacement in time

and don’t get AIDS

that’s probably the worst of all

slow death

slow, long suffering

it’s stuff like that

that should make you slow the wild

fun down

and moderate it


I would imagine poets

have suffered enough pain

to write authoritatively enough

about it

because they now understand it

much better than those who don’t

seem to reflect on anything

or give a S__T

about that which we do

But, if we were rich

would we still write?

I don’t know if I would…

we wouldn’t have that motivation

would we?

maybe, we’d get lazy

take a boat ride to somewhere far away

and eat like a pig

all that rich fatty food

and gain a hundred pounds

if not a hundred more…

sitting on our asses

stuffing our faces

drink expensive wine

throwing olives to our fat partner

in front of us

who catch it in their mouths

we would

lose our sense of purpose

and mission

that is,

if we even had one to begin with

would we be in less pain

or more pain?

there’d be gout or rheumatoid arthritis

in it for me

for sure

but, maybe some cancer for you

I don’t want to know…

you just never know until you get there

I mean, until you get rich

so, let me know

when you get rich

and how it changes you


I’ll do the same

if you are older than I

but, you probably aren’t

so you will live longer than I

sad for me

but it’s OK

it’s not you’re fault

you are so young…

If our hearts weren’t broken so many times

would we still write about love?

we are the troubled ones

that’s the motivation, isn’t it?

those who write poetry are drawn to it

because their souls cry

but, I don’t know of anyone famous

who has all the money they wanted

millions and millions of dollars

who can fill that hole in their heart

that so many of them seem to have

they get divorced

lose all their money

like so many

who’ve won the state lottery

through their own foolishness

they then get old

and not popular anymore

the young don’t know their names

and, the fresh new ones

those new stars

eventually replace them

and stand in their spotlight

they used to have

they thought the fame would go on forever

and they were all mistaken

they become old

and, they never saw it coming

until it was there

before them

and eventually all the poems, books, writers, and rich and famous people

and all those actors who pretend on a stage

even the powerful

will be forgotten

in time

even if they carve a statue of themselves

they can buy a more expensive gravestone

give away all their possessions and money to charity

it seems once someone rich and famous gets old

they start getting generous

maybe, sentimental

or is it they fear death

and feel all too sorry for themselves?

no one knows


not even they know why they do what they do…

they for some reason

start giving lots of money away

maybe, all their money

I wonder why?

guilt for all those unfortunates they ruined on the way up

stealing all their money

ruining their careers

and reputations

stepping on everyone

for the money

because they are so power hungry and greedy?

and now, they’d decided to start being a nice guy

because they found out money and power

doesn’t do anything to make you happy

it just makes you more of an egotistical bastard?

I guess they’ve finally figured out

they can’t take it with them…

so, what nature does


make everything

become forgotten

through eons of time

turning all to dust

from whence

it all came

eventually, everyone forgets everyone

because everyone is going to join

everyone else in the great


Every Caesar is going to be extinct

now, it’s


and I stayed up too late

I am tired

and feel slightly sick to my stomach

maybe, it’s all the negativity

I am typing

I don’t know…

it does make me feel better at the prospect of someone

liking what I have written…

we’ll see tomorrow

until then,

‘like sand through the hourglass so

are the days of our lives’

who said soap operas

on TV didn’t have

any wisdom?

I think it was probably me who said a lot more than that

putting my big foot in my mouth just one more time…

and now, believe it or not

it is 12:01PM

and, it’s time to retire



until tomorrow

my unknown



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