Poetry

I've written some pretty bad poetry in my life. I write most of my poems to my wife, and I call them my DPOL's (Daily Professions Of Love). She seems to like them, even if they are corny and sometimes don't even rhyme.

I tried one of Riv's poetry contests, rewriting Edgar Allen Poe "The Raven" verses. It was in the last Rivendell Reader, and the next one hasn't been published yet. I scanned it very closely to make there weren't any stray e's. Those of you who are familiar with the contest know that you are supposed to rewrite the verse without any e's, except when you use the proper name 'Lenore'. Besides that, I don't know if it meets Rivendell standards for good poetry but I did put some thought into it. Hopefully it will earn me some kind of prize or at least recognition, but I'm not counting on it.

I would think my great friend and detractor Ciclista believes that poetry is a big waste of time. After all, you'd really have to be desperate for something to do if you are actually writing poetry. Next, you'll try to learn the guitar, or take up painting, or maybe even attempt to actually create something meaningful or beautiful. So I'm going to utilize some of my vast repository of infinite time to subject you, the reader, to some awfully bad poetry.

I apologize in advance.

Oh Mr. Ciclista,
You sure make me glad,
That I'm wasting my time,
Learning to rhyme,
Writing verses that are bad, oh so bad.

Whatever happened,
To imagination, ingenuity and art,
A bit of soul,
And a lot of heart.

Gene, Gene, made a machine..oh, no!
Let's not go in that direction,
However, a dirty limerick or two,
Would bear much closer inspection!

So let's say hip hip hooray,
For writing poetry today,
Although it's not good,
We didn't print it, and saved a bit of wood,
And that's all I gotta say!

- Dwight