Posted by gandalf30598
Wordsworth wrote an endless poem in blank verse on” the growth of a poet’s mind.” I shall attempt a more modest feat for a more distracted age: a blog, “Things which a Lifetime of Trying to Be a Poet has Taught Me.”
The title says it all.
A PURPOSEFULLY ATROCIOUS POEM WRITTEN AS THERAPY
AFTER RECEIVING A REJECT SLIP, 20 Dec. ’74.
The problem with this wretched stuff
Is that it ain’t obscure enough.
Anyone can plainly see
What it means, and that must be
The death of any poem that’s wrote.
The meaning must be so remote
That no one can make head nor tail
Of it if you want it to sell.
Oh, that these were the good old days
When any scop could sing his lays
Of battles the king had recently fought.
His verses were not judged as naught
If someone recognized the deeds
They sought to capture—no, indeed!
That is what we need today:
Poems that have something to say,
Clothed in metaphor to be sure,
But let them not be so obscure
That no one can tell what we’re after,
Or they may hang us from the rafters!
Remember: for more poetry like this, go to https://www.createspace.com/3562314 and order Stars Through the Clouds!
Donald T. Williams, PhD