Bad Poet -- Just Plain Poetry

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Date Posted: 14:29:09 04/27/01 Fri
Author: jjaz
Subject: Bad Poet

He was not a person of notable continuity
Yet he wrote poems given to promiscuity
With his prose displayed rather feebly,
He embarked to write rather inconceivably

Other poets displayed nothing but scorn
for this illiterate who was always forlorn
Who dared write the intent of his heart
with words given to despicable remark

To the formalist he was a poor excuse,
and for free verse he was more a recluse
Yet with persistence he continued to write
until someone murdered him during the night

It has been a thousand years to the day
Did you know what I heard someone say?
That his poems were being read in the street,
and people were crying, standing to their feet

His words somehow had found their way
into the libraries and theaters of the day
For every literate who could read a book,
understood the language we mistook

His generation thought him quite deranged
with his words so backward and badly arranged
And now, his prose was raising the dead
Yes, leaning against walls banging their head

All these skeletons were breaking their bones,
dead poets making their unbelievable moans
for this dead "artist" who'd become the rave.,
Me, I just turned over, and over, in my grave

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