Poetry For Our Time

Poetry heals the wounds inflicted by reason. -Novalis

Make up

with one comment

ok here’s some old stuff some of you have seen, but its just a couple to make up for all the missed stuff

Write in Coherent Sentences, Please:
A poem about extreme dislike for poetry
By: Mike Calderon

Oh, yes, I hate poetry
And though it may come as a surprise,
It invokes within me
A feeling I despise.

Most people look at poetry
and think, “Oh that’s just great!
It sounds so pretty and melodious,
But an analysis I will not make!”

Well I think it’s stupid
To hide behind your stanzas.
It’s as if you don’t want them to hear,
It’s like you’ve gone Sardines-bananzas.

You wedge your thoughts and feelings
Behind your rhyme and wit,
And once one guy or girl has figured it out
He (or she) plops next to you and ya sit
And wait for the rest of us to figure it out.

In my eyes there are but three reasons
Someone would wish to in this way write
The first is for love, and then for gloom
And the last is to take a bite
At society.

In reverse order I shall respond
To these reasons three,
Mostly because it was the only way it would rhyme,
But also because this was written by not you, but me.

So the latter was society
And at it you shake your fist
Your sick of its infamy
Its cruelty and immoralness…t.

Well let’s just catch our breath
And take a good step back
And pull our good old history book
Out of our trusty knapsack.

It says no poet is revered
For having the guts to dare
To stand up to McCarthy
And Stalin to end the Red Scare.

No writer is heralded as
The slayer of injustice and slavery.
Nor the winner of World War I, or II, or Nam,
And we still have hunger and poverty.

No, that power is from… a president,
And not from what you write.
You may be the voice of the people
But only in hindsight.

So go out and run for mayor!
Go set a precedent!!
Maybe people will follow and change the world
(Or at least vote for president)!

Well, maybe it’s not society
That pushes your peeve button,
But it’s sadness, your lonesome, life sucks,
You feel like your missin’ sumtin.

Well, I’m afraid the general public
are not the ones to be addressed.
Those are memories not so fond,
Probably sad and maybe repressed.

You should tell a relative or friend,
But what you don’t want to do
Is bring them over to open up
And then hand them an emotional sudoku.

They’ll ponder over your metaphors,
They’ll crunch through it for a while;
And maybe they’ll get it but,
Being frank would be faster than going for style.

It’s cool if it helps you cope
With some bad memory or event,
But PLEASE do not publish
That poem used to vent!!

If you do, then, out comes
The good old history book;
And millions of kids in English class
Will at your life have to look.

And it won’t be the good
But the bad times we’ll study
And connect your experiences with your poem
And make my life also feel cruddy.

Now before I cause us all
To fall into a state of depression,
Let’s move onto a topic
To which I advocate no oppression.

Now if you were paying attention,
You know what is in store.
It’s an often overused word
That the French call amore.

If you write of true love
Publish it, sell it, just bring it back.
Today “I love you” is worthless.
Real love is something we lack

Use a million metaphors
And who needs punctuation?
As long as you can bring love back
To this shallow and shameless nation.

So let’s review, shall we?
I can do it with ease.
It’s a message for all you writers out there:
Write in coherent sentences, please!


Written by gorditodelgado

February 16, 2009 at 1:41 am

Posted in Poem

One Response

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  1. “emotional sudoku” Love that idea.


    February 17, 2009 at 1:26 am

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