Stories, Poems and Other Stuff...
Showing posts with label good poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label good poetry. Show all posts

Saturday, May 10, 2014

A Good Poem



I was asked,
“When do you know you have written a good poem?”
Oh, the question
I have yet to answer.
I don't know. I haven't written one yet.

Bad poetry is easy to spot,
but a good one
takes time to read, ingest,
digest.- whereas,
a bad one burns
the stomach
and no amount
of antacid, Pepto
or Prilosec
will cure it.

A good poem
makes the poet go mad
looking for
the right word
-not any word-
the perfect word,
torn from the bone
and placed on the plate
to be devoured,
filling the gut.

Yet still needing to
mirror life,
mundane...exciting,
mediocre...explosive!

A good poem,
to the poet,
is as evasive as
The Flying Dutchman,
Elvis or
D.B. Cooper.

A good poem
is best created at night (so says Hank)
anything else is like
running naked through a shopping mall.
It is best created
with a warm buzz
of beer,
whiskey
or cheap homemade wine.
The lack of either creates MADNESS.
The surfeit creates
beauty.

A good poem
rips the heart out,
mends the soul,
exposes the truth
and exaggerates
the
mundane.


© Charles Scott 2014

A Good Poem



I was asked,
“When do you know you have written a good poem?”
Oh, the question
I have yet to answer.
I don't know. I haven't written one yet.

Bad poetry is easy to spot,
but a good one
takes time to read, ingest,
digest.- whereas,
a bad one burns
the stomach
and no amount
of antacid, Pepto
or Prilosec
will cure it.

A good poem
makes the poet go mad
looking for
the right word
-not any word-
the perfect word,
torn from the bone
and placed on the plate
to be devoured,
filling the gut.

Yet still needing to
mirror life,
mundane...exciting,
mediocre...explosive!

A good poem,
to the poet,
is as evasive as
The Flying Dutchman,
Elvis or
D.B. Cooper.

A good poem
is best created at night (so says Hank)
anything else is like
running naked through a shopping mall.
It is best created
with a warm buzz
of beer,
whiskey
or cheap homemade wine.
The lack of either creates MADNESS.
The surfeit creates
beauty.

A good poem
rips the heart out,
mends the soul,
exposes the truth
and exaggerates
the
mundane.


© Charles Scott 2014