|Author:||Nola||Published:||almost 3 years ago.|
|Tags:||humour, wordplay, poetry||Category:||Poetry|
I thought it was a simple task To write a little poem, But when they taught poetic forms I found I didn’t know ‘em.
I thought a tanka filled with oil Would sail upon the ocean; Now I know that homophones Can complicate such notions.
Alliteration, assonance And onomatopoeia, Sprung rhythms and sestinas put My thoughts in disarraya.
While palindromes and daisy chains To me are just malarkey, I’ve learned it is a mortal sin To ever sound Hallmarkey.
I have to think of clever rhymes Or near-rhymes, even better; So time should rhyme with sky not lime Bazaar with operetta.
And free verse isn’t free at all, I can’t rhyme if I want to, The more obscure the message gleaned, The more I seem impromptu.
So I will learn these lessons well, But hope I’m not remembered For tearing beauty limb from limb In poems I’ve dismembered.
© Nola Passmore
(Published in “Tales from the Upper Room: Stories and Poetry from Tabor Adelaide’s 2009 Creative Writing Programme”, edited by C. Bell, Y, Ham, B. Morton, & M. Worthing, published by Pantaenus Press, 2009, p. 127)