teknomage (ektomage) wrote in the_poetry_room,
teknomage
ektomage
the_poetry_room

An Ironic Poem

Okay, here's something I started writing back in Monterey in 1999, but didn't get around to starting over and actually finishing until... I think like a year or so ago, maybe.... Would've liked to have posted it in the old Poetry Room, so I might a well put it here....

An Ironic Poem

Fuck poetry.

Poetry is bullshit.
Go get your own God-damned emotions.
I don't want to make my pain sound pretty;
it shouldn't rhyme, or "flow."
I cannot feel in meter,
nor in free verse emote.

Life just isn't lyrical.
Neither is it digital.
It's analog, and all too rough-
not just around the edges.
It makes no sense,
it's so unfair-
(I spit that word,
"unfair": a curse).
It makes no effort to conform
to any art or order;
it's messy and inelegant,
it holds no rhyme or reason.
It cuts, but when it does,
it uses not a surgeon's skill,
and neither, one's precision;
but hacks away-
a jagged, rusty blade-
as wielded by a madman.

A poem is a lovely thing,
and hence it is too lofty;
too gracious an endeavour, sadly,
for a world which hurts this badly.
Aesthetics are my last concern,
when my heart's been torn to pieces;
my torment I will not compose
in a style which blithely pleases.
Subscribe
  • Post a new comment

    Error

    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.
  • 3 comments