You are the stories you tell yourself.
You are the jokes you tell yourself.
You are the sandwich you eat for lunch.
You are the workout you do from the internet.
You are the memes you view from the internet.
You are the news you watch on television.
You are the dog you walk.
You are the sports team whose logo you wear.
You are the designer labels you don.
You are the no-name labels you slum in.
You are the craft beer you drink.
You are the church you sit in on Sunday morning.
You are the bible verses you can quote.
You are the constellations you can name.
You are the stories other people tell, if you believe them.
Listen to your dog, she tells the most gracious stories about you.
copyright © 2019 Kenneth P. Gurney
Lists show up in poetry all the time. “How do I love thee, let me count the ways,” then a list of ways. (Plug in your own example.)
List poems are a poetry form according to Writers Digest. An American Poetry form it says. I am sure other population groups make lists, so why the list poem is American, I do not know. Unless, American poets were the first with the audacity to get up to the mic and speak “Eggs. Milk. Butter. Loaf of Bread.” and claim the grocery list as a poem.
A list is an inventory. The first writing, Cuneiform, was designed to keep inventories. So the list has been with us for a long time.
The spreadsheet is the modern list. Or the data base. Or both.
Think of all the top 10 lists that are published regularly.
Actually, a list of list poem thoughts is above this line and includes this line. Argh!
Love & Light (& Lists)