I recently enrolled in a poetry class and realized that poetry is a lot more difficult to write (and understand) than I could have ever imagined. Apparently rhyming cat and hat is not nearly enough to make me a poet; who knew? I dedicate this poem to all of those who encouraged me through this process and kept my words on the right track.
But it's poetic!
A poem usually begins
With a night of stars and inspiration
What is that exactly? No clue.
But it’s poetic
So I sit and write, grinning
Because neither I, nor anyone else
Can make sense of what’s written
But it’s poetic
Using inimical, rather than bad
And jovial, rather than happy
Harder to understand? Yes.
But it’s poetic
I can cut up senten
Ces, wherever I
‘d like. Weird,
But it’s poetic
And then there are certain times
When it’s most fitting to add rhymes
Or not
But it’s poetic
Billions of bits, broken and borrowed
Built, but bound together brutishly
Bunches of brain matter begging to blend, boorishly
But (b)it's (b)poetic
With figures of speech
Like Egyptian Hieroglyphics
Totally off-the-wall
But it’s poetic
We YELL and (whisper)
Boldly, or gracefully.
Sometimes even (ALL of ThEm).
But it’s poetic
There’s the infamous haiku, too, remember?
Start and end with five
Seven, to split. Strange? Yes.
But it's poetic
And in the end
The poem must eloquently conclude
Not with a coherent resolution
But with
