feedback jeder art The coffee shop where the Dead Poets Society met

[Donna]

This morning, the coffee shop doubles as a dead poets shrine.

It's pouring outside, am I daydreaming .... this right now, is modern time.

Inside is toasty warm, as the rich, velvety scent of coffee lingers.

Blowing into the mugs hot liquid, at the rising steamy fingers.

Naturally Jean Paul Richter pulls up a chair first, laments Weltpain.

Rilke, blasting in the door, with a colored Autumn leaf rain.

In his wake, a brisk wind that catches the tablecloths unaware.

They billow briefly, raising like Marilyn's fluttering dress, up in air.

 

Emerging from a corner seat, Hölderlin, poet-philosopher.

Moves towards the group of us, talking loud, this "Schicksal" admonisher.

At his heels, Schiller, animated, waving a play manuscript.

"Die Räuber!" he shouts, as Poe steps forward in his path, ill equipped,

to handle Friedrich's passionate outburst, while sober.

Being a brooding poet himself, with his raven on the shoulder.

Longfellow tells Poe point blank "Chap, you're in the wrong place!  The taverns down the way!"

Poe storms off insulted, not wishing anyone a good day.

Rivals in their time, Edgar having accused Henry of plagiarism 

Writer's jealousy, that ran deep back then, in this drama's mannerism.

 

All this literary bluster has me intrigued, as I watch things unfold.

Truth be told, I'm not sure where they're going with this, crossing our threshold.

I remember middle school, the botched reciting of Henry's "A Psalm of Life."

Heine wants in on the conversation, mentions his overbearing ex-wife.

Yeah!  That's who inspired his famous work "Die Lorelei", now we know!

Did Heinrich inadvertently create revenge poetry? ... way-to-go!

 

The two best friends, with shared first name Theodor- Storm and Mommsen.

Sitting this whole time at the next table, debating and smokin'.

Goethe tells them they'll meet his "Faust' if they don't put out the cigarettes.

Klopstock to the defense, commands "Go stuff your threat and start writing some novelettes!"

A ripple of laughs, rise above the inflated egos, and Hemingway barks "Schmucks!"

 

More poets keep coming out of the woodworks, woo, I'm getting star-struck! 🤩

Rumi and Gibran are here!  Such luck!  They hand me their autographs, penned on a buck.

I've got tons of questions I'd like to ask them all - hey wait, where are you going?

Their mirage's are fading, at once, like a time -lapse slowing.

Hold on......did I dream this, was it wishful thinking, where are they now?

I hear Mörike whisper "Abreise" and the rest of them yell "Ciao!"

 

The waiter, a dead ringer for Herman Hesse, brings me two things.

My second caramel macchiato and a book "Das Glasperlenspiel",

saying "Read the inscription"

Keep writing your heart out with love and zeal 

Signed, from all of us, who came before, daring to walk through that door

Cast writer's uncertainty aside, keep searching for the right words to collide 

Write, and re-write and write - write in the sunlight, write at midnight 

Send your poems out into the world to make some trouble and noise

You don't always need a fancy plot or ploys, share what you know, tears and joys

© Donna H.

October 31, 2024

[Herbert Kaiser]

Hallo Donna 

 

Diese fiktive Zusammenkunft und das ganze literarische Getöse dieser Giganten der Dichtkunst hast du liebevoll eingefangen, und wenn's auch nur ein Traum war.

Man darf sich beim eigenen Schreiben nicht von ihnen blenden lassen, sondern den eigenen Gedanken und Gefühlen muss man Ausdruck geben. 

 

LG HERBERT 

[Uschi Rischanek]

Liebe Donna,

 

da bin ich aber ganz konträrer Meinung Herbert gegenüber.
Gerade sie sind es doch, die uns anleiten können es ihnen gleichzutun, NICHT UM SIE ZU KOPIEREN aber doch wohl um uns an ihnen zu erfreuen, von ihnen zu lernen...

Wer wäre so vermessen sich mit einem Rilke, Storm, Heine, Hölderlin oder Hermann Hesse und all den vielen anderen, auf eine Stufe stellen zu wollen und trotzdem vermögen sie uns doch auch zu befruchten.

Ein feiner Text deinerseits, in den ich gerne eingetaucht bin!

 

Liebe Grüße

Uschi

[Donna]

Lieber @Herbert Kaiser, und Liebe @Uschi Rischanek,

Mit einem hüpfenden Schritt und einem Klicken meiner glänzenden schwarzen Stiefelabsätze, a`la die Katze aus "Der gestiefelter Kater", ziehe ich meinen literarischen Filzhut, der mit einer buschigen Straußenfeder geschmückt ist, und verneige mich theatralisch, in bescheidenem Dank an alle Größen der Poesie - in der internationalen Arena natürlich, in Dankbarkeit und Ehrfurcht.  Sie haben den modernen Dichtern, von heute einen hart erkämpften Weg geebnet, damals, den wir bequemer schreiten können.

Dieses Gedicht ist meine Verbeugung vor ihnen.  

 

Vielen Dank für eure Kommentare, meine Dichterkollegen, Wortschmiede, Wortzauberer, Wortjongleure; es war nett von euch im Café vorbeizuschauen.

Liebe Grüße,

Donna