About Poetry

A poem about poetry and how to write it... Nothing really epic but something I wrote for fun...
Written on the 8th of August '09, Saturday 3:30 am


They say that, in poetry

Words must trickle

Forth, in an endless torrent.

With words colliding hurriedly

Writing away with mind supple

To the wile’s of rhyme, meter and mind’s content


Comedy, tragedy, irony.

All find their place

In measured lines, lyrical yet deep.

Line after line, verse after verse, completely

At the mercy of a mind’s fanciful fickle forays

Conduct ink into paper, seep.


Inspiration a key word oft heard

And as often experienced as

Offered chocolate gone untouched

They talk of how absurd

Moods striking en mass

And lead to poems great and perfectly metered.


But I suck at Poetry…


Inspiration cometh to me,

In the straggling throes of death

Or in unrealized infancy

Words flow as bark down a tree

Pages filled with cross-outs and …. markeths?”

And my rhymes, my dear, are just plain dreary.


I stare at this page blank

Willing myself to write

While prose all alluring smugly chuckles

Words I try to crank

Out, but end up with jumble and trite.

Frustrated I scratch out another line and think of a rhyme for ‘ckles’


Dictionary in hand

I search for a bludgeoning victim

While questioning this masochist pursuit

Yet still contemplating papyrusial homicide grand!

Oh bugger, another cross, another destitute whim

But alas, an hour’s unholy journey rewarded with this poem passably cute.

The End

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