Clever Titles Do Not a Poem Make...

...neither does talking like Yoda

or quasi intelligent inferences

with no motive

other than meeting literary quota.

So put your thoughts in some orda'.

Embrace the slang

of a man like me

who makes you his #1 fan

cause he takes a stand like me,

grabs the fantasy

of the Poet Divine

and lets you have it

to plant the magic seed

for verses tragic to bloom.

Then flip to page x-y-z

of some obscure artisan

that serves as your inspiration

for life.

Point down at the tripe Gonzalez

who shamelessly plugs his name

into pieces far from flawless.

So lawless,

I commit the crime

of rhyme with no solace

in bibliography,

and underline the history

of poetry

as mystery

draped around the common.

Does it work from inside out

or outside in?

Are we born with metered breath

or do we assimilate the clever?

Is writing treasure or sin?

An endeavor to stamp a lasting movement

or another playing field

on which to win?

Is a metaphor

a set up for love

or a falcon in dove's skin?

Guess we'll never know.

But the ones who slice through the sweet talk

to shake the balance

get thrown to the vultures

labelled uncultured anti-talent.

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Todd Pack's picture

No, they don't make poems, but they DO get one's attention!

I really like this piece, especially the final quatrain. People who slice through the facade usually get vilified for it. People want to recline in televised bliss, and poets . . . well, even BAD poets, to some degree . . . tend to disturb the illusion.

Kudos. Keep writing.