How Not To Write A Good Poem

Barnacles , Testicles, Wallet , Watch

I must be a good Catholic

I know the Pope can only be a man

I know nothing much else.

AM Watkins

Distilling words into poems

is no joke. Neither is it like making whisky.

Through the vacuum of space like a place in your mind where words are weightless, meaningless

to the fertile cress seeds of wilting inspiration via the vigorous growth spurts to the

bodger making a hole in a balloon of despair

most of the time it feels like its never going to happen.

(let alone rhyme or titillate or prevaricate into one)

I have learned that I wouldn’t know a good poem if it came and bit me on the ass. This is a good place to be while you are tearing out metaphorical RAM and installing upgrades like Mestopholes getting under floor heating in hell (you don’t need it – Geddit)

‘It’ being the thing that says ‘don’t slip up on a banana skin or use cliche’ (the preddominant part of my writing brain) also says that the glass lake is pure even simple. How can I enjoin some excitement to that except through trying an amalgam of the two? Get your skates on that glass pool won’t be pure for ever. And don’t forget ‘Don’t fall over’

Turn out the lights and you might get some idea of the confusion of practice. How do I not make a sentence boring? Well I am not one for making and following rules but like any story a sentence might be better with a begining , a middle and an end. Write sentences with only two words and tell me that its impossible. I don’t and won’t care. I don’t even care that I have not yet gone viral thus proving my poetical thruppence in the game of dominoes that is something like 21st century poetry Slam! I am quite happy writing.

Buddha Step aside! I am the Enlightened one MUHAHHAHA! Or something like that.

See If i had been looking for it I might never have found it. Looking for it does not involve reading the dictionary or encyclopedia or even urban Dictionary. No It’s in the inconstant thoughts that like pedestrians all stop for a Pelican Crossing then when the lights turn Red, all start walking again at their own speed and in their own directions and who eventually end up at some destination. Like the happy tourist photographing Street Photography you can only learn so much about people through their photographs. In real life you have to be a stalker – And follow them. (thoughts not people – and not obsessively like The Hamburgler or Kaiser Soze with murder in mind). And remember Every journey starts with single step.I think thats enough advice for one day.

Stay Tuned!

Published by Andrew Mark Watkins

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