The beef I have with writing poetry
is often that which someone else can’t see.
I wrote a free-verse once—so sweet and fair,
but someone stuck his nose up in the air
and cried, “Oh, man, your poem doesn’t rhyme!
without a rhyme it fails to ring my chime . . . .”
I tried to reason . . . maybe somewhat terse,
“it’s not supposed to; it’s not that kind of verse . . . .”
He argued, “Man, I like my verses rhymed!”
to which I had an answer quite well timed:
“Why don’t you practice till you get yours right?
but meantime, let me write the way I write.
Walt Whitman wrote in free-verse ‘Leaves of Grass,’
so, kindly get off my—umm—uh—soapbox!”
© Jerry Kemp 2016