Does poetry make sense? well… does taste count?
Often when reading words strung together, I’m left without the literal comprehension. But I’m left feeling a little taste of something that makes it palatable. Not that the whole poem wasn’t palatable, but just that there are morsels that get stuck between teeth.
Later when I’ve long forgotten about the poem. That piece of poetry that I’ve had my tongue flicking against becomes loose, and a taste of poetry spits out when I talk.
There’s a chance that it will land on you. Most people will brush it off. Only a few will pick it off their shirt and put it in their own mouths.
Filed under Uncategorized
Every now and then
I pull out a paper and pen
to penetrate poetry,
To enter an inky realm that I couldn’t type,
one that renders readers ripe
on the tip of my pen.
Each of them getting ink done,
dipping into a full-storied sleeve
of characters who receive
direction from the flexed muscle,
the scraping hustle
of a pen
when I penetrate poetry.
Sometimes a string of rhymes is a poem
On other days, rhymes are lackluster lines of forced meaning
Weaning the joy out of story,
Trading for rhymed glory, spectacle.
The gimmick lasts for so long
Before we’re doing it wrong,
Choosing the sake of the gimmick
to mimic word choices
That trap our voices.
Teaching the Memorable Essay
Open up the essay to get their attention
With a quote or something you mention
That’s attention getting.
Letting your audience get sucked in.
Thinking they lucked in to a setting
That they can really pay attention in.
Now list off what you’re going to tell them
So they know what you’re going to sell them
And don’t worry if they missed it
Because you’ll eventually relist it
When you conclude.
Then come up with a really good thesis,
So that when they see this
They’ll want to engage
And read the whole page.
Write the body of the paragraph next.
This is where you’ll copy text
From sources without citation
And you’ll strive for elongation
By changing the font size
Aiding the marginal eyes
Of your teachers who will be grading
Your plagiarized relating.
After three paragraphs containing a couple quotes
extremely similar to Cliff’s notes
but because you were a little more picky
you found them in an online wiki,
Start the conclusion by concluding what you said
When the reader first read
The thesis statement stated
When you first created the need
To read the page of compiled text.
Then it’s time to expand your thought
And leave the reader with the next
Thesis statement to be caught
In a stack of force fed papers
To become read vapors
Of memoryless essays on the subject
Of… of… well it was about something.
Poems in My Couch
Cornered in the couch, I find my seat,
Typing on my laptop to complete
The words for each poem that I find
In couch cushions now flipped over in my mind.
I discover traces of earlier word play,
Feel crumbs on my fingers from cheerios,
But the hopes of finding change today
Will keep me digging for those
That I haven’t come across yet.
Besides, there’s some sort of thrill
In tossing the cushions at will,
No matter what you get.
No more waiting for inspiration to hit me
Time to throw a fit we
Can see as either positive word play
Or constipated delay
Of a poem that’s ending writers block
With some poetic squawk.
Waiting for Big Ideas
I’m waiting for it, twiddling each thumb
Waiting for an idea to come
But not just something small,
A big idea that I can call
My own thing
That thing that I bring to the table
Out of a fable and into reality
Though the truth might be
That I’m not doing anything
That will actually bring
Something like that into fruition
Because my thumbs rotate in position
Until I have another great thought.
I wouldn’t want to be caught
Thinking something dumb.
So I’m waiting for it, twiddling each thumb,
Waiting for an idea to come.
Stay tuned (subscribed) to this blog. I’ll be posting another poetry video by the end of the week.
Sum thyme’s I’m ache Thai pose
Sum thyme’s I’m ache Thai pose
Butt eyes up hose
Hats apart off fusing
Come pewter’s. Whirl oozing
Are ebb ill it he two ought toe
Core hector weed rat her
Ma sheen’s um owe no
how herds chews too gat her
let hers inn us pacific hoarder,
Witch his beater. En dime,
air head squid gills a porter
whose know shaving thyme
Whiff hit snot hunter limed inn read
They’re snow since inn re reed ding
Too Czechs peeling four miss leading
Thinks eye mite half’s ed.
Now CLICK HERE for the easy to read version of this poem
Sometimes We Run From Writing
Sometimes we’re caught in a daze,
Looking on in a glaze
At blog stats for days we
Put off writing. We’re lazy.
Sometimes we grab a pen,
Have to write right then,
Go to town writing down
Things ‘till who knows when.
Sometimes I find the TV
And crutch myself to see
That I’m watching another
Show like any other.
Sometimes I go to twitter
And get literally bitter
At what others are doing
Instead of pursuing
My own writing,
With my muse.
I constantly confuse
Another’s success with what I should do.
Rather than writing these words that you
Are now reading, I flee from the muse,
Instead of choosing words to use.
Rubberized Grip Pen
Don’t you hate when you’re writing and then
Your pen slips out of your hands?
What you need is a rubberized grip on your pen
So each finger understands
That they shouldn’t give in to the slippery friction
That often occurs when you’re writing
Your pen should step up to an elegant diction
And stop this ridiculous fighting
With fingers that keep on impressing their prints
As the whites of each digit turn whiter.
Your fingers are frustrated writing in stints.
You uncramp, then hold your pen tighter.
But stop the madness, there’s no longer a need,
There are new pens on the market to feed
Your hunger for a pen that doesn’t slip.
Go buy yourself one with a rubberized grip.