The Perfect Foil
I made mistakes within this blog
Like one who trips while on a log
And falls into the waters, cold,
And gasps in shock, when body’s told.
I posted golden poetry
Of masters who wrote magic’lly,
Who scaled angelic heights in verse,
Whose lines we love, repeat, rehearse.
I’d set a gem like “Mandalay”
Into the necklace of a day
And follow with a poem of mine,
A stone that lay there next in line.
And side by side with “Pippa’s Song”
Or one of Shakespeare’s sonnet throng,
My little poem would upward glance
In awe, by contrast, in a trance.
So, if I’d thought, ere I began,
I could have had a better plan,
To put my poems in the best light,
Like stars are set against the night.
The poems I posted should have been
The rhinestone poems of modern men,
The prose that masquerades as verse,
That makes the public hide and curse.
And then, my rough attempts at rhyme
Would seem so brilliant, ev’ry time,
Put forth beside a perfect foil –
‘Gainst that which isn’t verse at all.
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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2012.
If it makes you feel any better, this fool sometimes fails to notice the difference.
Yes, that helps.
Thanks!
Actually not a bad idea.
It would work, wouldn’t it?
Rhyming takes discipline. Rhyming with meter takes patience. Following a specific form and rhyming with meter takes intelligence. You seem to have those ingredients, as far as I can determine…
To me, modern poetry is like Picasso’s paintings. None of the art lovers and critics could stand up and say “the emperor has no clothes”. They all went along with it. And, I recall seeing something that Picasso said that he himself thought it was a joke.
…read somewhere once that Picasso had some other rather unusual issues in addition to his artistic talents. Reminds me to stay reminded of the duality of man or woman, if you will…
Well, you know what they say: Most “great” poets and artists are never recognized as such until they are dead. Makes you wonder what people will be saying three generations from now about the stuff written by weirdos today, doesn’t it?
I have the same revulsion and thoughts about some of today’s “music” – specifically rap. Some of it is just horrible and people soak it up.
Love this! Especially this line: ‘To put my poems in the best light,
Like stars are set against the night.’
And, perhaps, when it comes to art, there aren’t any mistakes.
Thanks. I like that one, too. Some pups are my pride; some are the runts.
It’s been far too long since I frequented your blog–but I love your honest critique of the “modern poet”. Reminds me of T.S. Eliot’s essay, “Reflections on Vers Libre .
Thanks. I think the reading public is so turned off by it that they “don’t like poetry” when what they really don’t like is prose masquerading as poetry. The San Antonio paper publishes a poem every Sunday and they’re just prose in lines.
Exactly–the typical modern poet insists on dissecting prose and calling it a poem. I don’t dislike prose–I just dislike dishonesty. In my humble or not so humble opinion (depending on interpretation) there is no such thing as a “prose poem”–there is poetic prose, but they are two distinct categories.
I’m sure what I am about to say will be met with much disagreement but to me, it does not matter. Technique or talk? I would rather here the words than the technical crtitcism b/c HOW can you criticize what the heart says? Truly, how can you?
The poem doesn’t criticize the thoughts, the talk, what the heart says, but makes the point that not all that is called poetry is actually poetry. With a novel that no one would call poetry, the author may express something poetically. But it’s still prose. And, it’s all right that you’ve disagreed. After all, we’ve both just expressed out opinions.