poem rules
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.
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I don’t know why I clicked on “rules” but I did. Perhaps it’s my nature to always do things “correctly” and I had to know what kind of rules you could be meaning. I’m glad I read this. It feels important to me and wise advice. “one should always allow room for magic to express itself.” Indeed.
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Bless you. Might say brave, but not fond of that notion. I like curious more than brave. Thank you for reading this.
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