Tag Archives: metapoetry

#325: Idea for a Poem

I have an idea for a poem
that I haven’t yet written.
This is not that poem.
This is the poem about the poem
I would like to write.
I’d call it a preemptive poem
because it takes the place
of the poem I’d like to write
and the poem I’d like to write
remains unwritten.
Sometimes, a title follows
me around for years.
In the poem about the poem
I’d like to write, I refuse
to reveal the title, the title
of the poem I’d like to write,
the title that’s been following
me around. It’s too good and
revealing it too early might
jinx the poem I’d like to write
and then it might never
get written. The title, and thus the
subject, then, of the poem I’d
like to write becomes a secret.
The only good thing about this poem
about the poem I’d like to write
is that it contains a secret, the secret
of the title and the topic of the poem
that has not yet been written.
I sense that I could go on and on this way,
but sense as well that if I were to go
on and on this way, nothing would get
accomplished towards writing
the poem I’d like to write.
So I must come to a close by saying,
in conclusion, that I have a title
for a poem I’d like to write that’s
been following me around for years.
It’s a good title. I think it will be a
good poem. For now, though,
it will have to wait.

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#100: Serious About Poetry

I have just now reached my personal goal of writing 100 poems in a year!  I know poets who have written a poem every day for a year, so this may not be the most amaze-balls news of the world, but it’s amazing for me.  I think it’s a personal best, a personal record.  I’ve had times in my life when poetry sprouted forth in spontaneous and voluminous spurts, but never sustained over such a long period, never 100 in a year.  So, I’m pleased with myself despite misgivings I have about the quality of my verse, which, I’m pretty open about, and which, often, has become the subject matter for poetry, and which, is pretty much the subject matter for my one hundredth poem.  I’d like to thank the academy, my readers, all my lovely and brave followers, and in particular, National Poetry Writing Month–which got the whole ball rolling for me in the first place one year ago April 1st.     


Serious About Poetry

What would happen
if I became serious about poetry?
For one, I might stop
simply breaking my tiny
essays into lines and
calling them poems.
For another, I might do
things like this:

Rain comes down in torrents,
beats like mad against the windows,
and I shout over the top of it to be heard:
what’s for dinner, darling?

Something like that would be
good for a poem.
It seems to have all the requisite
poetry things: rain for example,
and an unexpected turn at the end,
the pairing of the mundane
with a totally different kind of mundane.

On second thought,
I think I’ll keep writing tiny essays
and breaking them into lines.
I’m calling that poetry, for now.




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