Keeping Things the Same

I hear the poet’s, or the rapper’s voice, the pattern,


so concerned about the rhyme, the meter, and I want

to flee, because I’m guilty, culpable, a part of all this

–something–this duh-dum, duh-dum, duh-dum,

iambic pentameter-ally, we are obsessed with keeping things

the same the same the same, but mix it up

just enough to make it new, to make it yours

to speak your piece but still within

the confines of the poet, the rap, the rhyme, the flow,

and if it doesn’t rhyme enough, it doesn’t go,

it isn’t poetry, it isn’t true, it doesn’t have enough to offer,

or then, worse, forbid and forgive us if we offend

because we can never do enough or be

enough, we can never be what you need us

to be, we can only write and rewrite and revise and

reprise and echo

and echo

and echo ourselves

until we drive ourselves insane, madly following,

acknowledging your need to hear something satisfying

something enterprising, but you’re confining us,

always defining us by your interpretations, your insinuations

of what we meant, what we felt, what we wanted

for you to read, instead of simply reading

what we wrote, what we meant was what

we said, and that’s enough

for us–




4 Responses to “Keeping Things the Same”

  1. Great – though I find joy in writing poetic forms

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