the rules are what I say they are. for my words, not for yours.
I remember the rules I do, and not the ones I don’t.
the rule that sits beneath everything else is what works is what works.
nothing else matters.
every word makes a difference. not a rule, but it matters anyway.
punctuation counts. it is a matter of breathing is why, and we all need to be doing that. ie. periods, commas, spaces included, those I respect. however, most capitalization just feels pretentious to me; not fair I know, but so it goes.
a break is something that produces a separation in the flow. some breaks have intent and purpose to be. some don’t, they just make things stop. those are the breaks.
words have meaning. sometimes we just make them up. although, never from nothing, always from something. maybe that don’t seem fair or proper, but really, we all began that way. words too.
not a rule, but oft I prefer personalizing what normally isn’t. not “the sky”, but “sky”. it changes our regard, our relationships. and for all we really know, perhaps it is more accurate!
free association is fair game, desirable even. those are threads that go where we don’t see when we begin!
one should always allow room for magic to express itself. writers and readers, both. what if a poem was actually for real?
and here’s the secret of the universe. poems came first, then words.
footnotes:
sort of a poem? sort of not? see the “rules” above; they apply. this was originally written as an add-on about to this blog and because rules seemed an issue for many poem folk. did some revision, language shaving and here it is. I do think most anything can be expressed poetically, if you want and I wanted it to have a more prominent place in the chorus here.
I seem to remember making a poem out of kids’ directions for cooking turkey. Wasn’t literature, but–yes–it was a poem.
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thanks Barbara. sometimes going home simple are the words that want to talk. any poem in a port…
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