On Poetry

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 scrollYour 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?

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