NPMC2016: Poem 6 Terrible Poetry

Quick note: I'm changing the Twitter # from #NPMC to #NationalPoetryChallenge. It's longer, but more direct and not used by Nonprofit companies. :)

Anyway,

Sometimes during National Poetry Month Challenge, I find myself and others I talk to can get hung up on the idea of poetry having to be just so good or so meaningful. I addressed this in my last post a bit, but last night at 1am it was on my mind again.

I find in these times, it is best to be silly and light. I had a great deal of fun tapping out the following poem at 1:00 AM in the dark on  my phone (typos removed for your reading pleasure), and overall, sometimes, I think this is just the type of advice we need.

(Also, I don't have a 7th poem yet, but will likely post 2 tomorrow.) 

NPMC 2016 Poem 6:

"Terrible Poetry: Let's Write it"

Let's write terrible poetry together
Let's for get about rhyme or rhythm
OR better yet
Let's cling to it
Like we can't live without it
Even if the sense of it
Is shit

Let's write about how much we love our cats
Or our toenail clippings
Not loving them just having them
A poem about loving them might actually be good
And flip our flop right back on top

Let's write terrible poetry with terrible words
Like rapist
Wait, too much
How about doo doo doody
Like poop
OR not

Let's stumble our words and confuse all the meanings
and send elephants catching soup eating lemmings
And lamp shades balleting through a poodle's pudding 

It doesn't have to make sense
We not even try
Consistency balisistency
Let's make an English teacher cry

Comments

  1. White above
    Brown below
    Who I carry, I don't know
    Giants arms across the land
    Crossing over sea and sand
    While I'm tread on day and night
    And the scars I bear an ugly sight
    You cannot see my unwavering might
    Stretch me, ground me, break me
    I am unwavering
    Freeze me, burn me, crack me
    I am a changeling
    I do not feel
    But with your speed I heal
    I do not cry
    For our relationship can lift you high
    Heed me, and survive
    To save your life do I try
    But fall asleep, and die
    Striped am I
    Life goes awry
    When I am the color of the evening sky


    What do you think?

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  2. Intriguing. It feels like a riddle and certain portions really get a rythmn going. Does it have a title?

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    Replies
    1. This comment has been removed by the author.

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    2. No title, at least not yet. I think some titles don't do a piece justice, and vice versa, so a lot of times I just leave them blank.

      Delete

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