A poem on how to write a poem

An unintelligible verse,
Is worse than a curse.
A badly worded rhyme,
is a literary crime.

Instead of rhyming ‘bird',
With a word like curd,
Some people are plain absurd,
And will use lacquered.

Poetry is emotion,
Expressed through lines,
Not word commotion,
Going off like mines.

The rules of grammar,
Have to be in place.
So please don't anger,
The grammarian populace,

By confusing their and there,
And misusing you're and your,
And using any word anywhere,
And thinking your poetry is pure.

Big words make not a poet,
Hyperboles won't add to the meaning,
So when you poeticise please know it,
Short stanzas are more appealing.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A strange experience in a Mumbai local

I boarded the 10.25 pm Borivali slow train. In hindsight, it was a mistake to have got into an empty compartment. Anyway I wanted to lounge leisurely on the cushioned first class bench and watch an episode of modern family on my laptop. So I threw caution to the wind and got into the compartment. The train was an old model, with little to no ventilation. I threw open the train doors and took a seat. I scanned the compartment for rats, nothing prowled below the seats. I was completely alone. The train crawled towards Borivali. Till Andheri, thereabouts there were people on the station platform. After Andheri, the platforms were deserted. A few people slept below the bridge, but by and large, the stations were empty. I kept my laptop away and extracted my cell phone. I browsed through news feed. The first write up was about the elections, followed by Aalia Bhat's nutrition chart, then details of a recent rape case. I shut the chrome browser and called up my boyfriend. I told him I...
Read more

Journey to the center of the mind

Image
“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” asked the elderly gentleman as he surveyed me from behind a pile of books. I looked up and into his dull grey eyes. William James had died at the age of 68. He looked much older though and very tired. I had called upon him at an unearthly or rather deathly hour for some assistance and after a bit of resistance and plenty of hesitation, he had agreed to help. “I have to do this. It's the only way”, I said. He shut the book before him with a thud that sent dust into the air. He coughed slowly and strenuously while I waited for him to say something. “It’s not the only way. But it is a way! The toughest, if I may add.” He drew out a piece of paper from his coat, scribbled across it and handed it to me. “People have journeyed to continents afar" “Also to the moon and Mars”, I added. “So I’ve heard,” he said with a look of disbelief, “but very few embark upon a journey to the center of their mind.” “You did”, I said. "“I tried!”...
Read more

I’d like to speak to the manager

“The next applicant is a 27 year old woman”, said Gabe.  “Death by COVID19?”, Asked God without looking up. “Actually, this one isn’t dead.” God jumped up with a start. “What do you mean this one isn’t dead ?” “I mean she’s alive”, said Gabe looking away from God and into the distance.  “Got you the first time Gabe. What is a live human doing here?” “She, umm, requisitioned a motion Sir.” “What motion?” “‘The can I speak to the manager?’ Motion.” “I thought we repealed that.” Said God tossing aside a parchment into the fireplace.  “We tabled it. We raised it. We harped over it. We blessed it. But we didn’t quite pass it.” “Why not?” Asked God “Motion sickness” said Gabe nervously. God wasn’t sure if Gabe was joking but from the look on his face, God was forced to accept that he wasn’t.  “Very well, send her in.” Gabe nodded and went out. A few minutes later, there was a faint knock.  God straightened his robe and smoothened his beard. He cleared his throa...
Read more