Wasted rhythm wasted rhyme
The muse has gone or else asleep
Clichés that have no power to keep
The mind engaged the heart enflamed
Their emptiness has only shamed
The poet and his dreams
Wasted efforts wasted words
Of rainbows butterflies and birds
Artificial saccharine sweet
Nothing real where minds may meet
There is no depth of contemplation
No emotion no elation
In nothingness he screams
©Stan Sanford
4-17-12
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ReplyDeleteI wrote this yesterday while sitting at Miracle Park. I was reflecting with sadness on the stuff that has flooded a poetry site I used to enjoy. I have pretty much decided not to go there again. This is in the form of a corrupted sonnet, the traditional love poem.
ReplyDeleteYour poetry is beautiful. Do not be discouraged about your writing. I appreciate your talent and so do others. I have been writing a poem a day for the April PAD Challenge. Rather difficult to be brilliant every day.
ReplyDelete