and wonder what in my sleep I shall dream of tonight.
I guess we shall find out in the morning when I awake.

What is to be is what we thought when young
what we become is not for our eyes
It is for the sound and sight
of a muse we do not recognize?

Eddie C.
PS. this is good, I like continues poetry lines like these, it carries me like a frieght train without a stop.

I rather like the way that rhyme intrudes on the free form: basket/casket, know/grow, be/poetry, confirm/infirm (separated by a line), explore/galore. I'm less crazy about the inversions used to achieve a couple of them: 'In poetry I shall never grow', 'A real poet I'll never be'. I know I'll look silly if you point out to me that they're deliberate devices to emphasise the budding poet's lack of finesse! :-D

Poetry lives in any form
and though rhyme may be my norm
I reckon everybody knows
loved is the king of prose
if sometimes a rhyme slips in
don't consider it a sin
remember where the best poems start
is within the writer's heart

At least it seems that your first poem had name. And screw that teacher!
(No disrespect to any teachers here, if there may be, lurking around some dark corners, waiting to pounce.) But until such time as untimely pouncing may occur, no dream ever dies, only lies down to rest for a while. And if what I take from this poem is that a poet once gave up because the world refused to use the moniker, then I'd like to say that I once wrote, that you are whatever you dream in your heart for yourself to be. It doesn't matter whether it may take you a day, or ten years to reach it in the eyes of the world, perhaps you never will. But what you see yourself as, no one can ever take that away from you, or convince you otherwise. There is no contrary fact to a decided heart.

Now that I'm done ranting, and cursing, and doing whatever I was doing...
I'm not very used to this type of poem, which only says that I've not read nearly enough poetry, but it does draw your to read further.
"Without any admiration
A long way you’ve to travel
That‘s my firm conviction."
I like this bit especially, maybe only because of my own experiences, but it doesn't matter. It's beautifully put together, and in true free-from style, the style of no style, it hops and skips just as it pleases.

I'll read more soon, but I don't really know how to comment on free-form writing. How can you say a certain piece doesn't seem to fit, when it's not supposed to? Quite a quandary, really.

Yours though, with a pleased smile upon reading

Waldo