This is basically a short story/poem about a writer who would like to be part of the Dead Poet Society one day. I guess I'm the person in this piece

"The Greatest Poem Ever told" by Anthony Hanes

1. (Chapter 1: Diversity)

"The Greatest Poem Ever Told"

The wind blows from the Heavens as I sit here reading the literature passed down from the "Dead Poets Society" with a fine glass of ancient grapes...I laugh as Dante vividly describes how hot it is in the "Inferno" can burn the shit out of you ....but... a life in sin can also provide everlasting least...that's what vacation bible school taught me... even though I cheated in class...this made "Psalm 23" by the Psalmist hard to believe because I drank and smoked on so many trees...oh the elevation... but I digress...On this night Homer took me to "The Iliad" right after Shakespeare had me amazed with the "Sonnet 18" eyes stay tired but Langston asked me...What happens to a dream deferred?...the cool breeze smacked my reality and there was no answer to this question ...I'm only a mere mortal you guys....I'm only a mere mortal you guys allow me the opportunity to share your stanzas with today's poets who knows no history...your writings are my history...can I join you Edgar as my fingers turn from "The Raven" to "Amazing Grace" by this guy called John Newton who was also a member... of the society that I would love to reside in forever... remember me guys....remember me as I remember "Still I Rise" by Maya Angelo or "Fog" by Carl fog outside makes it hard for me to read "Requiem" but I push my eyes deeper into the page....deeper into immortality...deeper into "When I Consider How My Light Is Spent" by John Milton ...I sip the fresh grapes again and feel a slight buzz....oh hell....I'm almost drunk but sober enough to know that "Jordan" by George Herbert is a work of genius...I'm a genius because I'm not afraid to day dream.....I relax and think about how Paul Lawrence Dunbar, Gwendolyn Brooks, Robert Hayden and Phyllis Wheatley would have viewed my Abstract World.....would they induct me....would they allow me in the Harlem Renaissance....would Henry Wadsworth Longfellow or Robert Frost allow me in their fraternity....I want to belong....I want to be a Poet....I want to be a name that lives on through words that capture the souls of all readers....just as the Dead Poets who continue to bless my spirit...continue to influence my pen and pad......continue to preach creativity...I got up and walked into the lobby... ran into Nikki Giovanni... who told me to never stop writing.....never stop the path to my destiny and a forgotten will never be......a forgotten will never be..............

2007 Anthony Chavon Hanes

Short story by Anthony Chavon Hanes
Read 869 times
Written on 2007-03-17 at 17:02

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