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A Poet's Dilemma Suddenly I’m stripped of words, but no, that speaks of ineptness. Suddenly I’m full of words, clothed with words, not naked, not inept I must speak of tremblings and sweats and soft barkings Of words, words, words They tantalize me tease me And refuse to leave me to rhyme or not to rhyme Is that a question? Perhaps a slant rhyme or A chain of iambs might do I wish to repose and leave my muse till I awake But no…a poem I must pen with words of color and flair So crash the cymbals blare the trumpets, and speak to me with The words, words, words That slake my soul and make me whole |
This Poem was Critiqued By: Mark Andrew Hislop On Date: 2006-06-19 10:32:25
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Mazza
I am so sorry I missed this in May. This is really something. Something out of the ordinary for you. Almost as if I can see you more clearly for seeing you in the midst of the struggle with/for/against words, words, words.
This is a rich vein you have started to mine.
Give up on the lists of things you believe in.
Give us more of these things that are less certain.
Lotsa
Mark