How to Write a (little) Poem
Is it all that lofty? This dream?
“No,” I would say, “Poems,
Are right where you, yes you,
Want them to be.”
They can be anything you want them to be.
You could dress them in lavish gold robes,
Ornate with a diamond air about them;
Set the hanging chandelier up, to illuminate
The room with a dazzling grandeur.
Or, they could be very simple, plain and clear
Down to a spartan salad of words
Picked carefully, nonetheless, to put across
Whichever point you choose.
But at the end, the Literature class
Will have your Poem stand before them,
Prince or pauper, and they will strip it bare,
Mercilessly, relentlessly, until
There is nothing left.
Only a shivering, cold Purpose, a Meaning
That is the echo of the heartbeat
Of your Poem. And we readers will discern
With our ever-attentive ears, what that throb says
What it washes us afresh with.
Then this judging panel would nod in unanimous agreement,
“It has been an absolute pleasure to have read your heart.
More than that, it is an experience we would not forget
In the many other Candidates to come.”