I am writing in a hurry,writing to throw outwhat has no sense or purpose.I am must scream, simply. Or shout.I am throwing at youwhat's fit only for the bin,what's waste,what's din.And until I decide I'm doneI'll just keep right on.*Hm. My poetry group meets tomorrow night and I didn't have anything I wanted to hand around. Maybe now I do. (I'll credit you.)
Most people think that real poetry these days shouldn’t rhyme. I needn’t rhyme but rhyme can be used to powerful effect. If used sparingly. This reminds me of a nursery rhyme and I’m sure it’s deliberate. And that kind of soundscape is a set-up. It triggers a mindset. Childhood is when we first learn to write. It’s when we first learn both the power of words and also their powerlessness often when we need them the most. I wrote a series of poems a while back—they’re all included in the book of mine you have—called ‘Advice to Children’ and the reasoning behind all these poems (they didn’t rhyme but they could easily have) was to present truths in the kind of language that young kids could get but weren’t ready to grasp which is what you’re doing here. The poem appears simplistic but its undercurrents are not.
Strange; very strange. I went to Good Friday worship this year (as usual). But the thing that struck me was that there were simply way too many words in the service. I wonder if I will feel that way later this morning. Easter blessings, Elizabeth. (And Bear hugs from Canada.)
And the words find purpose in the emptiness. Enjoyed..
"I am must" ... so much for my proofreading skills ... pardon my rewriting - no critique was meant - just a way I have - I rework other people's poems to see what happens. It's rather the way I rework my own poems, especially older ones with which I've lost touch.
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