I read a thread tonight, extolling the virtue of NOT putting poetry into prose novels. I know this is probably culture dictating art, but the many shallow and febrile minds (of the reading audience) that currently exists makes me want to vomit. I know most of the advice I get/read is geared toward making an author some money, but seriously, the idea that most will skip, advise abstinence, and in general flames the whole idea of poetry (ESPECIALLY in novels) really galls me. I shouldn’t rant and just let the ignorance level eventually bottom out, understanding that this same audience of whom I’m trying to reach, isn’t worth the effort. Okay, having a bad people moment, but the idiocy is surpassed only by their ignorance. And this is coming from writers; sheesh!
So, guess you can see what this poem is all about...ruby verse being the juice of the fruit, which when bitten and consumed, is sweet. And better, it’s sweeter when the picker has to reach for the fruit. And because so many don’t, reach, try, care, they become the ones whose ladders are broken, albeit by their own shallow tastes. Okay, that was a fun rant...on to the poem.
15 February 2012 - Broken Rungs - haiku
ruby verse drowns chin
plum is sweeter when reached for
too many broken rungs
3-20-12
params: 5-7-5 syllables (Americanized version)
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