Rhyme
Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt.
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I’m not much good at poetry. When I was 12 or so, I thought I was going to be the next Emily Dickinson. Truth? Not happening. My poetry always winds up being sappy, trite, and boring. That’s okay. I can still admire Emily and others who words tickle my poetry gene.
I did make an effort here on Word Press some time ago. I think it’s all I have, so here it is (we had been challenged to write our own 14-line sonnet)
Sonnets are not my poetry style.
If I try to be serious, you’d just have to smile.
I’d be better at something Suessian,
Or even Mother Goosian
Than writing something erudite
Though I should try with all my might.
Already I’m stuck for something to say
To finish this poem for the 14th day.
I could write reams of prose on most any topic,
But my poetic flair is rather dystropic.
Don’t bother to look; I created that word.
It’s what happens when I’m writing something absurd.
So now I will bid you all fond farewell,
And go to my room, and sleep for a spell.
And there you have it. Now you know why I am not, and never will be, a renowned poet 🙂
Just Writing! 
Ha! You’re right. Emily Dickinson you’re not (at least not with this sample.) 🙂 Your poem reminds me of one Grade 8 boy who was to write an essay — and wrote two pages on how uninspired he was, how his mind had sunk to the depths of indifference and there was no way he could dredge up any words on any subject to put down on that blank paper. Quite eloquent, actually! 🙂
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Emily would politely ignore my sad sonnet. Of course, she pretty much ignored everything outside her room 🙂
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Always write poems for your self never for the audience. A poem also carries the emotions which you can cherish later.
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That’s good advice 🙂
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That’s actually the best advice. Poetry has to flow from an inspiration; a great poem seldom comes out of an assignment. But the same can be said of prose.
Though we do work the words over in our minds, choosing the best ones to condense and express what we’re seeing/feeling, we need that initial vision. As one poet once said:
“I could write a sonnet about your Easter bonnet
and about the girl I’m taking to the Easter parade.”
🙂
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