Poetry Lesson

I’m taking a poetry class for my Master in Fine Arts degree. I am not a poetry guy. However, I will be posting some of my poetry because I’m forced to write it for class, therefore you will be forced to read it. (Unless you delete it. Never feel forced to read anything unless it’s a contract.)

I never understood poetry. I’m not a big, “flowers and meadows,” kind of guy. Then I read some poetry from St. Johnny Walker in the Criminal Class Review and quickly found out that good poetry isn’t about flowers and meadows. It’s about real life, condensed down like a crack rock, so just the essence is left.

I also discovered recently how to read poetry. I thought each line was a sentence. I was wrong. Even though the second line in the poem has a capital letter, that doesn’t mean it’s a new sentence. The author chooses where he wants the lines to break, but I learned that you need to read to the period.

I’m posting this poem how I’m going to turn it in, but then underneath it, I’m going to post how I would read it out loud. I’m hoping that this will help the non-poetry people to read it easier.

The Clean-up Man

Pots, pans and plates piled up
Like a stone wall in a Dr. Seuss book.
Dried up sustenance that is no longer so
Sits on the stove begging to be wiped clean
Along with herbs and spices left behind by Emeril’s apparition
Who missed the pan. Bam!
Call in the clean-up man.

The Clean-up Man

Pots, pans and plates piled up like a stone wall in a Dr. Seuss book.
Dried up sustenance that is no longer so, sits on the stove begging to be wiped clean
along with herbs and spices left behind by Emeril’s apparition who missed the pan.
Bam!
Call in the clean-up man.

This will be my first and last poetry lesson—hopefully.

Tags: Poetry Lesson, The Clean-up Man