I wish I could write better than this.
I wish I could write poetry
that sounds like a lullaby,
a sweet, sweet soothing melody
that will make all ears smile
for a while and say,
in their minds,
"This beats all by a mile."
I wish I could write better than this.
I wish I could use a poetry tool,
make it so cool
that no ears "boo."
I wish I could write a lyric,
a narrative or drama,
I wish I could communicate my feelings
of love, grief, happiness and despair
in my poetry so jaws will drop.
Oh God!
I wish I could use connotative words,
I wish I could use words beyond their denotations,
like “A flower represents delicacy,”
“Starry skies suggest something which has to look up.”
I wish I could write better than this.
I wish I could write a line as sweet as the taste of wine.
I wish I could write a stanza that will make me feel like I have won a bonanza.
A stanza that would turn ‘less’ into ‘more’ and still be concise.
I wish I could write a rhyme that flows as nice as a fountain.
That will be so nice readers would read
and loose track of time
a rhyme with all its repetition like:
“I have written a lyric
I leave it to the critics
to critique
and make the lyric
one to mimic.”
I wish I could use a simile better than
“blood dripped heavily down his head
as a rose petal that withered”
I wish I could use a personification better than
“rough wind, that moans loud,
grief too sad for song.”
I wish I could use a symbol to represent something other than itself,
like “The Phoenix and its life cycle represents the ups and downs in human life”
Oh how I would love to write an excellent poem.
I want write a poem better than that.
Friday 11 December 2009
Woes of a Poet - George Amoah
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ReplyDeleteI could have closed my eyes to say 'Sir George wrote this poem at midnight, in bed with pen and paper'
ReplyDeleteTake out his comparison of 'The Phoenix', I could still close my eyes to say 'my brother George wrote this so long a poem'
Recite it silently in your head, I could still read through your palm, and tell with certainty that these are the woes of our poet, George.
Good poem.