After church today, amongst a tapestry of entertaining conversations, a more interesting thread centered on poetry and the difficulty of composing a serious verse without including pomposity.
Too often, darker lines come across as forced and unnatural. I was reminded of the Scary Go Round rule governing the limited application of interior monologues. This rule, as demonstrated in this comic, explains how certain phrases retain their mystique only until they are spoken out loud.
The words of would-be poets sound important and meaningful, but should you seriously weigh them, you immediately discover their emptiness. I could consider that the fortune cookie corollary: you dig into them hoping for a sage treat, and you may be briefly pleased, but soon you will discard the message, treating it like the worthless piece of paper it is.
Note: I'm only talking about bad poets. Rest assured, if you think I'm picking on one of your favorites, I'm not. I'm complaining about someone else. Promise.
Good poetry – you’ve either got it in you, or you don’t (and it is depressing to think of the number of classics written under the influence while I can’t pen anything of poetic value stone sober).
I appreciate the talents of the greats, like Emily Dickinson, Robert Frost, and Shel Silverstein. Silverstein may seem like a cheeky pick, but I include him because he was the one who showed me how poetry could be silly, too. A lot of people try to downplay the less serious stuff, undercutting poets who try to make us laugh. In their place, we get people who are much more grim, dour, and less likely to inspire
I learned to dislike poetry when I wasn’t allowed to write playful stuff. I remember when I was put through my first poetry unit in fourth grade. The first time I entered willingly; I had reason to act otherwise in future encounters.
Originally, I had fun climbing around the play ground, finding good places to record my thoughts (at the top of the slide, at the bottom, top and bottom again before switching to the jungle gym). Quickly I was reigned in, physically and creatively. When I wasn’t allowed to make my silly rhymes, my words and attitude took a turn for the worse, and have yet to improve.
There’s a still line I wrote in a seventh grade creative writing class that is still lodged in my brain (like many memories that refuse to turn loose) that still causes me to grit my teeth when I remember it. I won’t inflict it on the readers here, but I will share that the literary components include moonbeams and butterflies. Ow…
That’s why I don’t really write any poems because I easily recognize them as words that are supposed to look, sound, and grandly pose as poetry, but are about as meaningful as a fast food value menu.
The only exclusion I allow myself is quirky haikus.
I’ve used this site in the past to act as a refresher course, though the important thing is the 5-7-5 syllable, three line setup. Since I’m only bound by the number of beats per line, rather than being forced to stick to the heavy-handedness of more “literary” poems, I find more freedom in the 17 counts than any free formed verse.
I’ve been working on these things off an on for a while, doing one or two every so often, and decided today was a good day to release them into the wild.
Closet monster waits
Bathroom beckons child’s bladder
Most patient will win
“Two cokes, burgers, fries –
I don’t want to ‘Super Size’”
“Pay and drive around”
Door-to-door salesman:
“Eskimo want brand-new fridge?”
Cold wind blows; no deal
A chameleon slips,
Falls in a vat of Skittles
Yuck! Taste the rainbow
Clock left on heater
Dali cranks temperature
Timepiece melts again
Mobster’s prescription:
Cement shoes for shrill patient
Leaves with heavy heart
Elephant escapes
Pachyderm seeks hiding place
Big footprints don’t help
Water rises, bridge closed.
Daredevil defies warnings
Mortician profits
Roller derby goes bad
Limbo bar set way too low
The spinning wheels fly
Jeremiah frog:
Good friend, hard to understand
Drank wine, mighty fine
Mirage – oasis
Water pursued where sand flows
Vultures delighted
Lovely Lenore lost.
Raven makes commentary
“Nevermore,” bird says
Push girl from car’s path
Her name’s Penny – suggests a date.
She’s saved and earned
“Clean your plate, sonny.
Otherwise, no chocolate cake”!
Brussel sprouts swallowed
Paranormal watch:
Cloudy night, zero sightings.
Elvis? Bigfoot? Nope.
Bear ravages land
Why target Jellystone Park
Pic-a-nic baskets
Two times two is three?
Bought discount calculator
Savings don’t add up
Evil sewer clown
Seeks to catch, devour children
Go, Tim Curry, go!
Truman to Cola
Joel’s historic conclusion:
We didn’t start fire
Twister math problem:
Gusty storm plus dairy farm
Equals flying cows
Volcano erupts
Lava flows, luau cancelled
Vacation over
Cat fiddles, cow jumps
Small dog laughs at lunar fun
Dish, spoon run away
My brain goes insane
Cries for help through poetry
No one notices
