Poem 33 (70-71) -- I hate poetry.

Mikka Mi Amor                 Bones Kendall

I hate poetry.
There isn’t a thing about it I like.
Ever since I stopped being a kid,
Hating poetry is what I did.
When I was a teenager I thought it was stupid–
Oooh! Look, another poem about cupid.
Yawn, belch and fart!
That’s no work of art.
And when I left to go to school,
I still didn’t think poetry was cool.
I met the Romantics and
My opinion didn’t change.
This tree, that tree on a greenish hill.
It still makes my stomach turn.
But then I met the Age of Reason–
Though passed, it seemed a cool season
To be alive, to prosper and thrive,
But into poetry I did not yet dive.
I had, by then, practiced some rhyme,
But I didn’t give poetry any time.
When I switched from reading to writing
Maybe I learned a thing or two more,
But poetry still was not inviting–
Little did I did know what lay in store.
I’ll be damned if I weren't as stiff as wood
When I felt that piercing arrow’s prick–
Hold on, that metaphor’s not so good,
‘Cause really you landed on me like a brick.
Then I was caught in the muse’s spell–
I guess it’s just as well,
For I found the poet within
The castle of my skin.
So I dedicate to you these firsts
Of my poetic outbursts
Because it’s all because of you
That hating poetry I no longer do.
 

            Poem 33 - Pages 70-71