My notebook is a mess.
My muse, to this attest.
Not perfect all the time,
not meter, not in rhyme.
I diddle here and there,
and scribble everywhere.
It may seem quite absurd
when I replace a word.
It may not be too stupid
If nothing rhymes with “cupid”.
I’ll let my options teeter
adjusting to the meter.
And yet, never-the-less
I really must confess,
once typed upon a page,
It’s reached the proper stage.
If plagiary’s an issue,
the proof that I’ll commit to,
the jury can just look
within my saved notebook.
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Author Notes
That image is actually the notes for my Sonnet, Black Shape Confusion. As you can see, I usually hand write my poems up first. Then trype it up later. I save all my notebooks in case someone steals my work, I can prove I originally wrote it.
This poem is simply AABB rhymed quatrains in an iambic trimeter. I did use both male and female trimeter. The entire third stanza is in feminine trimeter, with its extra, soft seventh syllable. So are the first two lines of the last stanza.
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