Home > Creative Writing > Poetry
Created on: January 22, 2009
One poem that may mean something or nothing and one poem about writing poems that makes fun of that one and most others.
Then
A car, three bedrooms, two baths and a kitchen.
A table, four chairs, a TV and some mittens
A couch, a coat, shoes, and a stereo,
A cell phone, computer, and a masturbating lothario.
Is this it then?
Four walls, a roof, and we'll call it a shelter
Two buns, a patty; is it food or is it felching?
Beans, Queens, greens, and reds
Capitalism, Communism, it's time for bed.
Is this it then?
Seventy-two years, a few more or less
Depending on whether a man, woman, or mess
Some offspring and even some offspring of offspring
Make history, a legacy of perennial talking.
It strikes me that this might be it, then.
How?
How do you write a poem?
How do you rhyme?
Do you just throw out words such as "dime"
And hope that it means something to someone in time?
Make it so vague that room for interpretation
Could be redefined as a Grand Canyon vacation?
How do you rhyme?
How do you write a poem?
Do you repeat lines from the beginning halfway through and at end,
In hopes that the emphasis will make Newton's apple descend?
If stereo is the word and you've just talked of fish
Can aquarium be made to fit the procrustean bed
And be said as "aquario" in aquarium's stead?
Lothario might work as well I suppose, and such a man would no doubt have a
stereo of notelike Bose.
Is this a poem? Is this how it's done?
How do you rhyme when you've stared at the sun?
How do you write a poem?
Learn more about this author, Madlando Aver.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.
Below are the top articles rated and ranked by Helium members on:
Poetry: Writing
by Kyra Terrill
Release
Writing is nothing more than creation of the mind
A way of releasing everything kept in your soul
It's the source of
by Tammi Pounds
A single word
It started with a single word- then came another five. When I got to my second line, I nearly began to cry.
by Nathan Breck
"A Writer's Week"
Day 1:
The pencil is just as easy to wield as the log I sit upon.
It crushes, it smashes, it breaks, the
by Nancy Lynam
Sweet Dreams
Whispers in the night...
my mind does never rest.
I went to bed at ten o'clock...
these thoughts are such a pest.
I
by Frank Balara
For Those Who Wait In Silence
Writing, for now, is my lover abroad;
Out of sight, but very much in mind.
I hold it, caress
View All Articles on: Poetry: Writing
Featured Partner
Tomorrow's Peacekeepers Today's short-term mission is to provide vital security information to non-government organizations (NGOs) and recommendations on how to protect third-party nationals while on the ground in foreign countries.more