FanStory.com - What Real Poets Knowby Jim Wile
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Homage to free verse poets (with a bit of tongue in cheek)
The Divine Nonsense of Jim Wile
: What Real Poets Know by Jim Wile


It’s free verse I must master if I want to be a poet.
For “Rhymers” lack the necessary skills—we just don’t know it.
We think that rhyme’s the best way to communicate with words,
But we don’t know what “Freevers” know: That concept’s just absurd!

They say that rhyming’s limiting; it forces me to choose…
Some words I may not really want, for fear that I will lose…
The rhythm and the cadence—unnecessary chores—
That force me down a narrow path, the “Freevers” all abhor.

And try to end a quatrain line with words like “bulb” or “orange.”
I only can approximate the rhymes with “hub” or “flange.”
Why must I tie myself in knots, just to make it rhyme?
When free verse offers me the chance to mitigate the crime…

 
Of choosing words that fail to say exactly what I mean,
And offer me but little hope my audience will glean…
The point that I am trying to make. It’s time I must retool.
So, I’ll attempt to write a poem without the stringent rules.

Let’s see if I can conjure one without reverting back…
To rhyming, which the “Freevers” say will make me just a hack.
I promise not to make a rhyme. I’ll swear off meter too.
And then I’ll see if what the “Freevers” say is really true.

Here goes:
 
 
 
Higher Duty

There lies
the fair maiden.
Her concupiscence abundant
in her artful splendor,
adjuring me to reap the rewards
she knows she can bestow.
So why must I go

[watch it now!]  (oops)

away from her realm
to where cold winds stir
that shun the comfort of her evanescent loins
quickly fading away
like a magician’s vanishing coins

[you’re not trying very hard!]  (I apologize)

Such is my woe
That I can only imagine her now in my dreams!
For I must go where higher duty beckons.

Despite the rain and cold and wind
To cancel a golf game? That’s a sin!
I must show up, I promised my buds.
If I renege—my name is mud!

(@#!$%^&*)

I’m sorry, I have failed, my friends. I just could not sustain it.
I did my best, you must believe. I just cannot explain it:
This need to rhyme with flowing cadence I can’t do without.
I’ll never be a poet now! I think I’ll go and pout.
 

Author Notes
Please don't be offended, free verse poets. This is all in good fun.

Similar in theme to my poems "Simple Poet" and "Simple Poet - Part 2," it illustrates my attempts to grow into a complete poet. It isn't so easy for me.

To give context to this latest goal: About ten years ago I was a volunteer at a library with the job of shelving books. This afforded me a wonderful opportunity to browse many books. (It's a good thing I wasn't being paid, or I probably would have gotten fired for the amount of time I spent doing this!)

One of the books I had to shelve was called "The Best American Poetry: 2010." I spent a few minutes reading poems, and every one I saw was a free verse poem. I couldn't find a rhyme anywhere. The conclusion I drew from this was that rhyming was now passe, and if I wanted to become a real poet, I would have to master the art of free verse.


     

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