There once was a one-armed magician
Who brimmed with heroic ambition
He left for the fray
Just to learn ‘long the way
He could lay down his sword if he listened
Not long ago I found this OC limerick prompt on tumblr, and decided to give it a go. The result is totally silly, and I didn’t expect anyone to care about it or even notice it. But a few people cared enough to comment, and it reminded me of my love for poetry – even totally dorky limericks.
I used to write a tonne of poetry. I loved playing with words and language in ways that only poetry allowed; I loved that poems could be mathematically strict or totally free and senseless – abstract – in format. I loved that poetry was like a little puzzle you made for yourself; I loved that it could be romantically ancient or viscerally modern. I had a very active AllPoetry account (long since destroyed), and I will still die on the poems-belongs-in-fantasy-novels hill.
But I stopped writing it a long time ago. The first draft of this entry explored why I’d given up poetry… but what’s more important, I think, is that I’m going to get back into it. All this to say, here’s another dumb thing I’m working on for part of a comic:
the fair folk trade their yolken hair
to siphon luck from Fortune’s Rock,
but fate’s the same for those who dare
to cage those ghosts with golden locks
Your turn: Do you enjoy reading/writing poetry? Do you prefer free verse or format? What are your favourite poems?
Or do you think poems are for stuck-up nerds?