Perfect Poem
How does one pen the perfect poem?
with harmonious and captivating flow.
inviting the reader in with consequential hopes.
leaving them with a smile or inspiring them to their next great idea.
I don't know, but that is how poetry goes.
What style shall the poet present?
Pastoral or a Sonnet?
Soliloquy or free verse?
The next great Villanelle?
Do not go gently and so forth.
I don't know, but that is how poetry goes.
Does one write for self-fulfilment?
or motivationally efficacious for the audience?
Painting pictures of dreamscapes in minds you will never understand.
That is quite grand.
I need no reasons only a spark
to show this poet's heart.
the words may never be perfect.
Just little pieces of me for the world to read.
That is my perfect poem.
Stuart isalittlebroken Johns
“Where were you?”
where were you
when the world fell apart?
when people died?
when cities shut down,
shops closed,
and livelihoods were
struck down
by an invisible pathogen?
where were you
when riots were tearing us apart
at the seams?
i was in my house
tracing over-stenciled thoughts
onto a computer screen
rewriting a novel,
attending virtual meetings,
eating junk food,
and finally feeling just
a tad bit okay
about myself.
while the world fell apart,
i was stitching myself back together
taking time to heal
that for years
i’d been trying to ignore
how much i needed it.
where was i?
let’s not skirt around it.
i was hiding.
but sometimes
the apocalypse isn’t fought
with chainsaws and violence.
sometimes it should be fought
with hiding.
staying inside
and watching the world
keep turning
even as we feel like we’re
spiraling out of control,
mother earth stays steady.
we should respect her
for that.