Category: Ars Poetica

Catch me, catch me
Hold me, hold me
Sexy, sexy
“Fuck you”
You can’t hold on
You can’t slow down
Never get what you want
Until you leave this town
“Fuck you”
I thought you were insightful
When I was a young lad
But you’re so damned depressing
Just a phony, quite mad.
“Fuck you”
Fuck yous, everywhere
Can’t wipe it away
And the girls won’t stay
Sweet and pure and fair
“Fuck you”
You’re Holden, you’re holdin’
Holding on
But they’ll all slip by
They’ll all fall down…

Jenny, Jenny
It’s OK
If with the boys
You like to play
Take a roll in the rye
But you can’t stay!

What radical shapes
Can these lines take
To blow the minds
Of the critical judge?
My rhythms and beats
Would soon hit delete
If held to the academic lens.
My forms seem standard
My themes unenlightened
The topics of today
Shaped by cruelty.
My meter 4/4
My couplets I adore
My birds and trees
Are all that come from me.
What would they have me do
To stand out from you?
The poet deemed better
Than the rest?
What duress must I endure
What heartbreak must I cure
To be considered the
Greatest of this age?
Some sage for the annals
Whose words fill these halls
And speak to a new
Generation as the
Voice and wisdom of the nation?

So few times
To Carry me
Through these days
Lately
So little written down
As I toss
These thoughts
Around
As if they
Are forbidden
To see the light
Of day.
Gone fishing,
Off camping
Must work
Or some other
Excuse
To refuse
To record
This poet’s dream.

Write, Write
Everyday
Even if
You have nothing
To say
Make it habit
More than a goal
If you don’t
Just do it
You’re leaving
A Hole
In your notebook
Where thoughts
Should assemble
And emptiness
Is what’s left
To ressemble
That you had nothing
To say
And no one cares
Anyways
So write, write
Every day
Before you’re dead
And left
Something unsaid.