I’m not a poet … and I know it

Monday, May 6, 2019. Chicago, USA. Canon Typestar 5. POETRY! POETRY! POETRY! I just found out there's this cool group of folks here in Chicago who create poetry on demand. They're Poems While You Wait (poemswhileyouwait.tumblr.com) and their stuff is A-OK and absolutely first-class. I’m also very envious of PWYW because I've always wanted to be able to write good poetry. There are two things that are stopping me, however. 1. I have no patience. 2. I have no talent. I do remember poems that impress me. Many decades ago, Mom brought home a book by Mason Williams, the guy who created Classical Gas. The book contained photos, graphics, and poetry. One of Williams' poems has stayed with me all this time. Death. You will know me by my touch. It is the last. Another poem I recall from about that time is far less sophisticated. Roses are red, violets are blue, and you've got a nose like a B-52. Warning: This typecast has not been edited.

 

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One thought on “I’m not a poet … and I know it

  1. Poetry is much like art. The quality of a poem depends greatly on the position of the reader. Approach a poem with respect, and you’ll probably find it great. If you approach is skeptical, you’ll probably not like it. Although I shouldn’t say skeptical. Being skeptical can be a good thing. If one approaches a poem with a negative skepticism. Anyhow.

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