[ In one of my very first college classes (English 25: English Literature) we were assigned to write a Spenserian sonnet. That’s a fairly daunting assignment for a college freshman , but I dutifully completed it and handed it in. The next class, I saw my poem at the top of stack of papers on the instructor’s desk. To my dismay, he began the class by taking my sonnet and reading it aloud. Then, he asked the class “What do you think?” The following ten seconds of silence were … well, my heart stood still, my armpits were drenched, I wanted the floor to swallow me, and if I had a gun, I would have shot myself.
This is from Wikipedia: Edmund Spenser (/ˈspɛnsər/; 1552/1553 – 13 January O.S. 1599)[2][3] was an English poet best known for The Faerie Queene, an epic poem and fantastical allegory celebrating the Tudor dynasty and Elizabeth I. He is recognized as one of the premier craftsmen of nascent Modern English verse, and he is considered one of the great poets in the English language.
Finally … one student said “Sounds just like him.” The teacher said … “I agree.”
Here’s the point. I don’t get poetry. I don’t know what is or isn’t. I’ve had a number of poems published. Are they any good? I have no idea. April is Poetry Month, and is celebrated in my home town of Randolph, Vermont. Here’s my submission for this year’s volume of collected works by local poets. SB SM]
Add This to the List
Water flows downhill. It flows to the sea.
It happens each springtime. Complete mystery.
I never see water flowing uphill.
So how does it get there?
Add this to the list of things I don’t understand.
You hit me.
I hit you back harder.
The cycle continues.
We don’t get no smarter.
We stand as protected,
amendment of rights.
The table is turned, and now you are free
to enforce denial of my liberty.
Exuberant bluster of cease and desist
from sources held high.
Add this to the list.
How does the remote control the TV?
But sometimes it won’t just listen to me.
I cajole, I threaten, an arm that I twist.
Then I unplug. Add this to the list.
I try to remember the first time I kissed.
It’s lost in the ether
Gorillas in mist.
But where is the logic, the gist of the tryst?
I rail to the gods, their help to enlist.
The world is uncertain, predictable and …
Add this to the list, I don’t understand.
Bravo!