And All of That Jazz
I sat down to write but try as I might
I couldn’t decide on a style
I thought maybe a sonnet in Shakespearean form
might satisfy me and bring forth a smile
But then again maybe haiku might be my thing
and make me famous and rich
But alas a cutting word I could not bring to bear
so once again I decided to switch
I thought I’d write a limerick or two and come up
with something of humorous intent
But the words put up such a fight as I wrote that night
that my amphibrach meter took an ugly descent
Then I turned my attention to poetry feet
but realized my mistake in a flash
It seems my iambs and spondees as well as pyrrhic’s
all ended up sounding pathetic and it all turned to a mountain of trash
Now I’m lost in a jungle of strange sounding stuff
Trochaic octameter, assonance and consonance,
I think I’ve had about enough
Street poet I am; I guess I must accept my fate
To learn all that stuff, it is just too damn late
So write on I will, completely devoid of pizzazz
Content with simple cowboy poetry and all of that jazz
©Copyright Charlie Gragg, November 13, 2010
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.