Tuesday, September 21, 2010

THAT WAS VERY POETIC OF YOU

I don’t have a favorite

No flowery language love affair

No passion for prose

No righteousness for rhyme

Just an alliteration allstar

A masterful manipulation of words

Flowing river of intellect

Poetry is simply a sentence without end

Breathe in and out,

Scream and shout,

Without a period or a or exclamation to stop

What comes, is, and, will be spoken and heard

The end comes when I say:

STIGA!

(This is a poem about poems from someone(me) who is not a huge poem reader)

No comments:

Post a Comment