Hmph. Dead Poets Society.

Everyone’s a freakin’ poet. No training, no studying, no background. There’s no structure, no timing, no rhyming, no reason.
Just a bunch of words and sentences spaced dramatically. I might be wrong (it’s been a while), but I believe that’s called ‘prose’.
But everyone’s a poet. I’m a poet. I like the sound of that. It sounds artsy, and people can dig artsy. Maybe it’ll get me laid, or make me some new friends. And the best thing is that you don’t even have to show any work to still be a ‘poet.’ And if you do, it doesn’t have to be good. Because most people (most people) couldn’t tell good poetry from the menu at Denny’s (which, by the way, is poetic in its own special way). I could scribble a bunch of lines on napkins or take-out menus and stuff it all in my back pocket, or carry around a notebook where I write observations (the sky… is blue today…) and say “Hey. What’s up. I’m a poet. Check out my sweet, sweet poems.”
I’m a poet, a poetrist, the vocal stylist who puts words together in his/her own way and wants to sell you on their poetic identity. Maybe they want attention, maybe they really do love their art. No, not me personally, but I know plenty of people who do. Want attention. And love their art. And say they’re poets. Sometimes it’s a combination platter with extra cheese.
I don’t know if I could do it… don’t know if I could resist the urge to laugh. Especially if I ran across someone who read one of these seemingly poetic observations and said “Hey, yeah, that’s really cool… you’re really talented!” When they’re actually thinking “Okaaaay… what’s the point?”
What a line of crap all that is. If you want to take a dump in the woods and call it art, do it. I know plenty of people that do exactly that (and it smells terrible.) There’s a great sales/business adage that says: “What’s a nuclear submarine worth? Whatever someone will pay for it.”
Definitions and structure lose their value in an ever-evolving field. I might go so far as to say art (and all its cousins) would be considered ever-evolving. Unless you’re a creationist. Then you’re just screwed.

One Reply to “Hmph. Dead Poets Society.”

  1. Everyone, in their own way, is a poet. Some are bad, some are just horrible. That isn't really what matters, though. A true poet speaks from their heart. They pour their soul out on a page or a canvas or the sandbox at the playground. That's where the true poetry is… In our hearts.

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