I Got Up, Sat Down, And Wrote You This Poem, Day 59 of the 100 Days of Poetry @d-pend

in poetry •  6 years ago  (edited)

I Got Up, Sat Down, and Wrote You This Poem

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be it an ode, limerick, or elegy
a sonnet, dactyl, or allegory
we, poets, are adept and bereft
quite fond, indeed
when writing of the verse
at immortalizing the very worse

things overall are fine and rather grand
on a off day, blasé, a little bland
but we pick up a pen, suddenly …
here strums the blues
a sunny romantic epic goes wrong
life becomes a country & western song

so I would like to take, just this one day
clear the air, if you’ll allow and I may

a desire to make a write meaningful
and pack a punch
will transform an anti-climatic split
into a gambit of Russian Roulette

I know …

some of my poetry is bleak and stark
just me laughing last, flirting with the dark
no te preocupe; I’m doing fine
I got up, sat down, and wrote you this poem
and made it rhyme
proof, exhibit one, I'm having a good time

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I Got Up, Sat Down and Wrote You This Poem is copyright Pryde Foltz

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we poets do immortalize, that's for sure. shared on twitter

Thank you, Sayee:)

It is important to have fun if one is to stir that black pot in the center where all poetry comes from. :)

So true. Thank you, figuring:)

awesome, one poetry very organized and very very funny.
excellent text prydefoltz

Thank you, DM:)

Hahaha I think about this all the time , I write such serious poetry, but I am pretty silly person also. I made myself write something silly for the "flea' freewrite ... must be something in the air today that us morose folks are shaking it up lol

I laughed out loud after the first verse, because I was drawn in my the dark picture and then realized you got me hahah

Thank you, Kilbride. I don't always write black but when I do I stub my toe ... lol:)

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Gurl, I am so exhausted that I can barely keep my eyes open, but I want you to know that this write is fantastic!

Now off to bed as I get up in like 4 hours... ha. The delirium has been fruitful though. ;)

Thank you, Mamadini. And sleep deep:):):)

Funny piece of shaking. I love seeing you today free, dear Pryde.

Thank you, Zeleira:)

I hear ya, Pryde, and smiled with (divo) recognition as I read ;) Also, somehow, your piece reminded me of this poem by Pessoa:

Autopsychography

The poet is a man who feigns
And feigns so thoroughly, at last
He manages to feign as pain
The pain he really feels,

And those who read what once he wrote
Feel clearly, in the pain they read,
Neither of the pains he felt,
Only a pain they cannot sense.

And thus, around its jolting track
There runs, to keep our reason busy,
The circling clockwork train of ours
That men agree to call a heart.

(Translated by Edouard Roditi)

Very nice, Yahia. Your words yesterday did indeed inspire this write. A few others hinted at a similar take. Time to lighten things up for sure. The Roditi piece has rhyme and wisdom:)

Hah, no kidding! For a moment, there, I thought you were talking to me. Then, I mildly scolded myself (pompous ass) and reminded myself that's what poetry can do, make it feel like it's addressed to you.

Again, glad you're well. My take is that when we revisit the dark, too often, we invite it to stay longer and visit us, uninvited :) As someone with a tendency to retrace the wounds of the past I'm learning, finally, the wisdom of lightening up.

Have a fun weekend, friend :)

So very true. But man, the poetry can be worth it, now and then:)

You have a great weekend, too:)

I won’t deny it, I know exactly what you mean ;) Cheers!