Don't wake me; I'll be writing.

[Pete Ak]

I wonder why I love to scribble
profundities or arrant drivel,
revealing clips of what I know,
concealing bits that I should show?

I wonder where these rhymes will go
when they collide with what you know?
And how you feel.
I wonder if the words I scrawl
intrigue, enrapt, inspire, enthrall
elucidate, attenuate or heal?

I write and mentally ascend
onto clouds, where my best friends
are verbs and preening adjectives
which decorate my narratives
and generate a laxative
effect on my mind.

But other times I descend
into an attitude
that sends
me deep into solitude
and creative constipation.
So, to garner inspiration
I'll find some old quotations
or a dust-filmed hoary cliche
that will maybe take me halfway
to new literary creations.

A story or an ode
hopefully bestowed
with meaning, form and clarity,
a testament to the artistry
of internet forum critters
who, whether sweet or bitter,
(and some are plain outrageous,)
will advise, inform or witter
advantageous...
ly for my art. *

Of course they need revision
and serious attention
to iambs and abstractions,
trochees and inversions.
Then some concentration
on verse - blank or rhyme,
Do my words flow naturally?
Or read better when they chime
harmoniously?

I hurl words at the stars
and await creative echoes.
Rhymes return from Mars,
as unforced as Mexico's
sombreros.

Sometimes I hear an angel
whisper in my head,
other times the devil
shrieks a curse or two instead.
A swirling and unholy babble:
angelic phrases, devilish words
tangle, flirt, joke and grapple
with all my passions, all my hurts.
So I launch myself unbridled
to mask and unveil a universe.

So, if you catch me fast asleep
with pen and paper in my hand,
Just let me be, don't wake me please,
I'll be writing bold ideas
opportunities, dreams and plans.



* (If I offend 'critters'
e'en afore you crit
you'll despise this piece
as a load of ****.
Oops! now mods' tempers will flare,
for posting a poem in which I swear.
They'll probably say the thread must be closed
So as you aren't reading this I see no point in finishing it off properly

[E.A Rumfield]

Kind of contrived and pretentious, I think.

[Pete Ak]

Thank you for your feedback Mr Rumfield.

Contrived I'll accept, after all what poetry isn't? The trick is making it seem as natural as the poem requires it to be in order to stay credible as a piece of art. Frankly, unless you can show me where it loses that credibility, I'm unlikely to consider your comment helpful.

Pretentious? - moi?

[E.A Rumfield]

Thank you for your feedback Mr Rumfield.

Contrived I'll accept, after all what poetry isn't? The trick is making it seem as natural as the poem requires it to be in order to stay credible as a piece of art. Frankly, unless you can show me where it loses that credibility, I'm unlikely to consider your comment helpful.

Pretentious? - moi?

Take it as you will, your rhyming doesn't drive the poem, you constantly reference writing but I am likely to believe you, cher ami, are a hack. If I understand this correctly this poem is written of you disillusionment of a certain internet forum. Could you be a sadder mon cher?

[Pete Ak]

Should rhyming drive a poem? Not sure if you're telling me my rhyming doesn't drive the poem - but it should(?) 'Hack' I know as a term for journalists - are you accusing me of being one? It's probably something worse but I'd still like to know.
This piece is a celebration of writing written way before I found sites like this. The advice/feedback I've had has added more things for me to write about. The bit about internet critiquing is meant to be entertaining, maybe in a satirical way but nevertheless it's still just a joke.
When I despair of poetry forums I'll stop posting on them.

[hillwalker]

The rhyming does indeed drive this poem - off the road into a ditch.

The third stanza in particular stands as an example of how something initially original and even possibly thought-provoking if handled with some subtlety can finish up sounding contrived and rather shallow when you allow the rhyme to dictate what you write.

And this verse is, I assume, not meant to be taken seriously for one second:

I hurl words at the stars
and await creative echoes.
Rhymes return from Mars,
as unforced as Mexico's
sombrero's. no need for the apostrophe

But I can't work out whether you're making fun of yourself or actually do believe in some of what you have written here.

You say it's an old poem. Time for a redraft possibly?

H

[Pete Ak]

Hillwalker, your critique is of a type most likely to make me despair. If you don't see the joke, particularly the stanzas you quote I'm clearly not in the right place. (Thanks for heads up on the apostrophe tho, I hate that kind of error so I'm mad at myself for that.) By the way you critiqued the original (too serious and egocentric) effort - one of your comments suggested you didn't like the first two stanzas which have survived albeit with revisions.

Logic suggests I should learn to walk in step but I sometimes like to skip, run, walk backwards and sometimes just stop and stare. Being ignored might be more dispiriting than a joke falling flat on its face.

[hillwalker]

I have no problem with 'joke' poems but they have to be handled just as seriously as serious poetry otherwise they come across as doggerell.

If you want the humour to translate to the reader effectively, the rhyme and meter have to be spot on. Because they trip up most of the time it's neither one thing or another. Is it parody? Is it gentle self-deprecation? Is it a serious statement on being a writer buried under a truly dire attempt at rhyme?
???

H