|Author:||Nola||Published:||about 3 years ago|
|Tags:||humour, wordplay, poetry||Category:||Poetry|
I thought it was a simple task
To write a little poem,
But when they taught poetic forms
I found I didn’t know ‘em.
I thought a tanka filled with oil
Would sail upon the ocean;
Now I know that homophones
Can complicate such notions.
Sprung rhythms and sestinas put
My thoughts in disarraya.
While palindromes and daisy chains
To me are just malarkey,
I’ve learned it is a mortal sin
To ever sound Hallmarkey.
I have to think of clever rhymes
Or near-rhymes, even better;
So time should rhyme with sky not lime
Bazaar with operetta.
And free verse isn’t free at all,
I can’t rhyme if I want to,
The more obscure the message gleaned,
The more I seem impromptu.
So I will learn these lessons well,
But hope I’m not remembered
For tearing beauty limb from limb
In poems I’ve dismembered.
© Nola Passmore
(Published in “Tales from the Upper Room: Stories and Poetry from Tabor Adelaide’s 2009 Creative Writing Programme”, edited by C. Bell, Y, Ham, B. Morton, & M. Worthing, published by Pantaenus Press, 2009, p. 127)