Why I am not a Real Poet
By Penelope Olive
Totally undisciplined,
I count on my fingers
the syllables
to match each row
in a stanza.
Truly – I dare you
count one or two rows
in another poem of mine.
Poetry is Math and I a rebel,
A retired Banker.
I dislike being
Constrained to rules.
At the same time,
I am obedient;
I concede – a lot!
My true calling
is writing, I love
Wandering and
Meandering
And filling pages.
Over 70 journals later -
In this sense I am
Disciplined and orderly,
dating and documenting,
teaching, training, forming.
Also imaginative
A story teller
Very Verbose
Commenting,
Describing.
The poet in me
is undisciplined
Rebellious
a Lover of words
and Explorative.
Hence, therefore
The qualification
Of the word real -
A poet perhaps,
But not real.
Prompt:
Why I am not a Real Poet
I count on my fingers
the syllables
to match each row
in a stanza.
count one or two rows
in another poem of mine.
Poetry is Math and I a rebel,
A retired Banker.
Constrained to rules.
At the same time,
I am obedient;
I concede – a lot!
is writing, I love
Wandering and
Meandering
And filling pages.
In this sense I am
Disciplined and orderly,
dating and documenting,
teaching, training, forming.
A story teller
Very Verbose
Commenting,
Describing.
is undisciplined
Rebellious
a Lover of words
and Explorative.
The qualification
Of the word real -
A poet perhaps,
But not real.
Why I am not a Real Poet
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