The Poetry Soldier

By Sean Hudson

To be a poet is much like being a concert violinist: you have to be devoted to your craft. But unlike music, poetry can be referred to as the silent art. Much like reading a novel where the sound is coming from your thoughts. Where you can actually and virtually hear yourself think while being motivated by the stirrings of your deepest emotions. Your mind or your inner-self hears the thoughts it generates, giving you a new and rhapsodic consciousness to go wherever your thoughts and ideas may take you. Similar to the dream state our minds will take us to when we sleep.

In this new book by Sean Hudson called The Poetry Soldier, this is what he hopes to display within its pages. There are fifty-three titles with thoughts and ideas such as reincarnation in "The Children's Cottages". When you come upon these topics, you may be surprised where they take you. And as far as this back cover goes, he has tried to be innovative and different. Hoping to give you something you wouldn't expect to see on the cover of a book.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Newman Springs Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Oct 3, 2022
• ISBN: 9781638810018

Book preview

Sell Out!

No capitulation

I’m remembering the things that I said

No capitulation

I’m seeing how I lied in that bed

And how I wore that moniker

For all the world to see

Seeing how I sold out

I’ve become ashamed of me

The Paper Clip

You kept the paper clip,

And I know it will always remind you of me,

You’ll squeeze it closed with your fingertips,

And it will remind you of how tough as nails I was,

How stubborn I am,

And how much I love you so,

The paper clip,

An eternal crossbow of excellence,

To both of us.

Endpaper

How to not be an egomaniac

Keep your mouth shut

Miss Real

I only know her name,

And it was through a piece of paper,

Sad as it was, she was merciful,

Though I cried for her love so strongly,

She helped me write my last book,

And she didn’t even know it,

She was merciful and strong,

A great woman indeed,

No, and thanks, were the kindest things,

She ever said to me,

Her name should be Miss Real,

And her eyes that weren’t there,

For sure, gave her away.

Must I trivialize everything?

Best That I Can Be

I’m gonna go someplace,

To be the best that I can be,

Someplace where it’s not hard to live,

Or to think, hear, and see,

Someplace where I’m not living,

From the bottom of a barrel,

At the end of a long vacuum tube,

Shouting Christmas