Letter Perfect

Folder: 
Vintage Words

.

I've read maybe five perfectly

executed poems in my sixty plus years.

Each space, each period, comma, each

line length so perfectly placed.

.

I long to become a woman of letters,

pushing the hand and mind to work it out

, the world, the universe,on the page

perfectly.

.

I can't "Tick it tock it turn it true". I can't

read or write between the lines. One day

I will write the perfect poem and then I will

never be able to write again.

.

allets

01-07-14

106p

.

 

View allets's Full Portfolio
SSmoothie's picture

Id hate to write a perfect

Id hate to write a perfect poem. or even a popular one. Lol! I guess Im just eccentric like that. 


Don't let any one shake your dream stars from your eyes, lest your soul Come away with them! -SS    

"Well, it's life SIMS, but not as we know it" - ¡$&am

allets's picture

In Search Of

I guess we have to settle for near perfect . . . and the quest continues. Best always, dear SS.

.

easterbunny.jpg

I just learned how to put  pictures in letters on postpoems so heare is my Easter Wish for you. ~Star~

.


 

 

darkpool's picture

If I read the perfect poem, I

If I read the perfect poem, I wouldn't read any more poetry ... so there will always be the hunt, it will have to be satisfying enough for me.

allets's picture

To posit the perfect poem

To posit the perfect poem puts poets in a precarious tempest. To presume perfection places parameters on point and at peak. The perfect prefers to preponderantly peek at poets, perhaps parades in paradise as all perfect poems prefer. - Thanks for the read - Just Bein' Lady A


 

 

darkpool's picture

There is no perfect poem, but

There is no perfect poem, but the bst I have read is by Amanda McBroom:

 

The Rose

 

Some say love, it is a river
That drowns the tender reed
Some say love, it is a razor
That leaves your soul to bleed
Some say love, it is a hunger
An endless aching need
I say love, it is a flower
And you, its only seed

It's the heart, afraid of breaking
That never learns to dance
It's the dream, afraid of waking
That never takes the chance
It's the one who won't be taken
Who cannot seem to give
And the soul, afraid of dying
That never learns to live

When the night has been too lonely
And the road has been too long
And you think that love is only

for the lucky and the strong
Just remember in the winter
Far beneath the bitter snow
Lies the seed
That with the sun's love, in the spring
Becomes the rose


Amanda McBroom


allets's picture

Nice

.

Iambs perectly set into evenly measured feet, rhythm predominant, a bit overwhelming, but content is merged into oneness and the voice is even with the presentation and melodiously unified. I enjoyed reading this seval times to get all of it. Thanks for sharing.

.

One of my candidates for the perfect poems: By Leroi Jones (Imamu Amiri Baraka)

.

The title poem from PREFACE TO A TWENTY VOLUME SUICIDE NOTE, Totem Press/Corinth Books, New York, N.Y., Copyright Leroi Jones 1961

.

PREFACE TO A TWENTY VOLUME SUICIDE NOTE

.

Lately, Ive become accustomed to the way

The ground opens up and envelopes me

Each time I go out to walk the dog.

Or the broad edged silly music the wind

Makes when I run for a bus . . .

.

Things have come to that.

.

And now, each night I count the stars,

And each night I get the same number.

And when they will not come to be counted,

I count the holes they leave.

.

Nobody sings anymore.

.

And then last night, I tiptoed up

To my daughter's room and heard her

Talking to someone, and when I opened

The door, there was no one there . . .

Only she on her knees, peeking into

.

Her own clasped hands.

.

                                                                March 1957

.



When I thought about perfect poem, this one came and would not be challenged. ~slc

.


 


 

 

SSmoothie's picture

Congrats! that is quite an

Congrats! that is quite an achievement! Im still waiting... one day. one fine day. in the meantime I will settle for awkwardly beautiful. hugss! ;)


Don't let any one shake your dream stars from your eyes, lest your soul Come away with them! -SS    

"Well, it's life SIMS, but not as we know it" - ¡$&am

allets's picture

Dear Awkwardly Beauteous

When the perfect poem is written, the world will end - nonsensically yours in writing ~A~


 

 

SSmoothie's picture

LOL! dont worry, my perfect

LOL! dont worry, my perfect doesnt exist... but i do enjoy trying to conjure it! ;) hugss

 


Don't let any one shake your dream stars from your eyes, lest your soul Come away with them! -SS    

"Well, it's life SIMS, but not as we know it" - ¡$&am

allets's picture

1 Person's

One person's perfect is another person's "ho-hum" or "hmmmmmmmm almost" anyway. The world is safe. - Lady A