A Stab at Poetry
I’d like to take a stab at poetry
And while I don’t wish it dead
I’d like to beat it into submission
As a chance to clear my head
It all seems so simple
Words strewn across a blank page
No need to be profound
Please-don’t expect a learned sage
A rhyme or two would be nice
Although it is not mandatory
A lack of emotion-now that’s my vice
Considering this poem has no story
I won’t write about my feelings
That’s a Pandora’s box I’d rather not open
Nor will I write about writing about healing
The open wounds of endless hopin’
Realism is rambling
Although that goes against the code
My only purpose is to explore the dark corners
Of this empty mind’s open road
There are only platitudes lighting the way
Neon-flashing words of wisdom
That stifles creativity
In a self-reflected prism
These obnoxious brazen phrases
Blind me on my path
Filling my mind with other men’s words
Shakespearean “wilt thou”s and “hath”s
Then I’ll come across some 15-watt nightmares
That pop and spark and simmer
And in comparison to such magnanimous words
Only succeed to appear all the dimmer
On closer inspection, I’ll take a look
And attempt to give these words some power
It is not that they are outdated or useless
Merely overshadowed by a verbose vocabulary tower
Just like any childhood scapegoat
In desperate need of encouragement
The neglected words poke and prod and mock and gloat
Only speak to harass and torment
These signs are desperately craving a brighter bulb
The one I can offer is rather dim
It can’t outshine the works in the Bibliotèque D’Ulb
But can rattle off a dirty limerick on a whim
How many frustrated poets does it take --
To screw in a light bulb?
-By Kari Klaus