Tag Archives: poem

Bad Poets

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We talk

so abstractly

about poetry

because all of us

are usually

bad poets.”

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― Friedrich Nietzsche

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Elfje:

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words

picture painted

ideas and opinions

verses now being created

poem

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Haiku: (In reverse 7-5-7,  only the bad poet takes poetic license.)

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the babbling brook speaks volumes

fed by winter snows

rushing down to the ocean

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Poem:   Highly Overrated  (My attempt at writing a bad poem)

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a stream of conscience

writing what appears

in the minds eye

not seeking the rhyme or why

just giving the feelings

wings that can or may be attached

to the time and place of their origins

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coming up for air

catching another breath

before diving again into

the unconscious realm of

smokey clouds, that on passing

allow glimpses of sunlight and clarity

to peak through

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drifting along on the pleasant dreams,

fantasies that makes this world bearable,

trying to ignore the necessary formalities,

meditating in silence as the

world passes me by,

alas, reality is very very highly overrated . . .

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Moral: Don’t take yourself too seriously.

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ME and the Boss

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https://meandtheboss.wordpress.com

https://michaelerb.wordpress.com

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The Contradiction

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“Free verse

is like

free love;

it is a

contradiction

in terms.”

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― G.K. Chesterton

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Elfje:

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mother

always said

nothing is free

the piper is paid

eventually

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Haiku:

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awaiting the rain

dry brown grasses catching fire

hurricane season

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Poem:     “Delightfully”

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nature and the weather

two safe topics to discuss

you may tickle me with a feather

as  friends, let us always stay together

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walk with me in my garden

let’s close the gate on the worlds problems

let’s allow our minds to soar like the martin

every faux pas let us agree to pardon

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the clouds are gathering, we need the rain

hope I’m not wrong just like the weatherman

to bad we do not live on the plains of Spain

call in the cavalry, come on John Wayne

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praying for the veggie plants to produce a cornucopia

getting out the paint to color the thumb green

pleasant and wonderful dreams of my own utopia

awakening,  not wanting to find dysfunction and dystopia

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walk with me in my garden silently

let us listen to the sounds of Mother Nature

observing the complexities of Her wonderful society

placed in our memories under the experience ” delightfully”

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ME and the Boss:

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