and one for archy

Now, it seems a provable point
That one who truly wishes to
Could concoct rather passable poetry
(use a rhyme generator; or two)

I wonder why it is, then
that no matter how hard I try
every attempt at meaningful verse
seems to go quite promptly awry

There was once a time, I remember
when I considered it uncommon neat
to be able to choose two words
groovy last syllables repeat!

I wrote poems on sunsets and rainbows
and on mean girls; and every time,
when I got to the end of the alternate
sentences, poof! there was the rhyme

Then came teen angst; fear of pretension
dread of hypocrisy (though, if truth be told,
teen angst; teen acne; burning desire for truth,
only came along when I was twenty years old)

See, I’d never been fond of reading poetry
Found it threw my mind into disarray
Found I paid more attention to the patterns
than on what it was attempting to say

Was truly unfortunate, that of late
I have fallen unwitting prey
To the lure of vers libre à la Whitman
Face it, free verse rather made my day

So perhaps the fact is that it’s easier to be
Either flippant, fun, structured; or earnest and free
For I find all too often, for a feeling strong enough
The attempt at rhyme robs the thought of clarity

I guess that’s what separates the masters from the rest
The ability to weave all aspects into one
And though I won’t ever go the whole hog, at least
I can say I tried both little ways, and have done


*thanks to these three people.
for inspirations and such :)

P.S. The next one promises to scan better.