this is not a poem
dropping all the capitals
in imitation of e e cummings
who maybe had a reason for it
or of archy
who couldnt push the shift key down
this is not a poem
scattered print upon a page
with pretty tYpO
gRaPhIc tricks
to make you think theres meaning to it
this aint nary poem
chok full with four letr cuss word talk
and asortd mispelings and grammer mistaks
that r suposed to shok **** the readr
but look like the writer just never went to school
this cannot be a poem
it isnt even words
just a fossil a trace a record a dead memory
marks on a page
meaning nothing
a poem does not exist on paper
until someone comes along and speaks hears or reads
decodes the marks into language the tool of speech and thought
and then the word the sentence the poem or whatever
runs wild inside a living mind
which is the only time it ever exists
so all the fancy printing games
the type the spelling the placement
dont make a text into a poem
because where do they go
when you read it aloud
this is not a poem
even if its artful and moving
filled with feelings and images and ideas
even if the words make music in the mind
because thats not what makes a poem
a poem is structured
it may be tightly metred to a steady beat
or it may sound with rhymes around the ending feet
perhaps the words are pitched so high and low will alternate
or rather than rhythm the rule is letting lines alliterate
it may be an ancient structure
or one that had never been heard
one you impose or one that just grows
out of each forming word
but a poem is structured
believe it or not
words can be good and true and beautiful
and still not be poetry
if unstructured no matter how well organized
the term is prose
prose is not a bad thing for words to be
prose can be lovely or hideous or strong or weak
just as poems can be
and while we loosely speak of poetic imagery or poetry in motion
swell tones do not a poem make
even four score and seven years ago
even when age fell upon the world and wonder went out of the minds of men
even go placidly amid the noise and haste
are not poems
though we call them poetic
to say that good prose is a poem
is like telling a good woman shes a man
or a good man hes a woman
the sentiment may be appreciated
but the facts are wrong
a poem is like a spoken song
the writer has something to say
but has to cooperate even compromise with the music
something besides the writer is sharing the writing
in a sense the poem is writing itself
this is like the arts of bonsai and love
two different entities producing together what neither could alone
if one party had all the power it would not be art
manipulating a lifeless unresisting unparticipating object
the terms are lumberwork and necrophilia
so i found it utterly incredible
that socalled poetry journals specifically exclude
forbid prohibit banish deny absolutely will not consider
structured rhymed or metred poetry
for inclusion among the stuff coating their squeezably soft pages
one could perhaps argue a place for unstructured poetry
as having a form organic to the content
but to say that this is the only kind acceptable
is going too far
way too far
it is like saying pictures must must must be abstract
are not allowed to resemble the subject
or that not merely does a minority have rights but the majority does not
and do you know
ive heard both these claims made too
i smell a worm in this confirmed conformist anticonformity
but i am cured of being lured to bite a juicy dangled bait
with wary look i leave the hook to any who will swallow it
as of today i swim away to find a less polluted strait
and flip a fin at suckers in the fishy school of modern lit
_________________________
© 1984 C. M. Joserlin, “Raven”
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