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No, Really, I'm Not A Single Bit Jealous!

I wish my poetry was more recherche,

full of arcane images swirling
and twirling in a rhetorical blur
brimming with esoteric references
from yonder and yore.

wow, that would be so cool.

I'd wear corduroy jackets
with those elegant patches,
horned rim glasses,
and a stylish European chapeau,
for just a touch of class

I'd be the dopest of the dapper
and righteously snarky,
chock-full of myself
and certifiable...I mean certified
by peers in academia
and the New York Times.

I'm giddy just thinking about it.

Oh, to be a real poet!

(and, I don't mean that comprehensible kind that
people actually enjoy reading... pfft)

Last few words: 
I will satirize, mock, ridicule or roast any and everything in my path. The subjects of these attacks are strong, and viable enough to withstand any assault...I don't pick on the weak...I am not a bully. But, you've gotta admit, raggin' on stuff is fun. Just shake it off like a man if it offends.
Editing stage: 


nothing wrong with
what or why
you or I
at least we aren't delusional about it.

I've always had some hinky feelings about poets and poetry
yet, here I am
...maybe I am a little delusional myself!

glad you like what I write
hope I can continue the trend


author comment

I'm not a poet. I just scribble without a thought and like the monkeys with typewriters hope something emerges once in a while lol

We here are all poets, good, bad, or indifferent
the attitude one takes about about the matter is personal

I am both a good poet, and a bad poet, but never NOT a poet

I think of you as the same

p.s. I never tell anyone "I'm a poet" ...what does that say about me?


author comment

Being totally out of academia, it would seem all the poets we read and admire are out of there too.
There is a standard the public is open to in poetry today. The poets you are referring to, the Yeats' and Tennyson's are far in the past. We have Plath, Bukoswski, Ginsberg, Ferlinghetti and all the rest.

Strangely the non-comprehensible poets you refer to are not coming out of academia but our main publications- 95% of the Poems in New Yorker, Poetry Magazine, NY Sunday Times...I don't have a fucking clue what they are about. Academia doesn't bother with them. Modern Poetry for them ended with Eliot. Maybe they will teach Merwin in 50 years..Don't worry about that shit, man. Just write!

Sonnet to Self and Many Poets

Singers don’t ask why they sing,
Painters don’t doubt their coloring,
Dancers don’t complain of pain,
Composers don’t announce their shame.

O the suffering we endure
To craft a poem that is pure!
How lonely our chosen path
Tormented souls who swoon with wrath.

Madness and suicide is our fate-
So why do we commiserate?
Poets are the lowest paid,
Most are buried in a paupers grave.

But no one cares how we take to flight.
So just shut the fuck up and and write.

I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
ee cummings

this is as much a parody of a talentless man more in love with an image than the art itself
even if that image is perceived as stereotypical and passe to others.
His delusion is itself truth deluded, hence the attire and life style choices etc.
Kind of like a guy always carrying a guitar, and wearing leather pants trying to live as he thinks rock stars do, but he never really wants to learn how to play, and that image he holds is not really applicable anymore anyway, but he doesn't know that, or even care
the parody is about the imagined image someone may have, not the truth of that image

I like your poem
point well made and taken


author comment
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