Shackled By Rhyme

by jaybird1

How I yearn to write in free verse,
free from rhythm, cadence and
free to roam about ethereally
in some never-never land.

The muse of Erato is upon me.
I have an urge to write with vagueness
and abstraction, to cloak my meanings
in surrealism and mystery.Perhaps I
should write of passion, joy, sadness,
despair, longings, angers, envies and
doubts. I could write of depressions and
elations, using platitudes and beatitudes.
I must write of sad yesterdays and hope filled
tomorrows and tell of my misty dreams and
future schemes. Ah! Yes, these would be
great topics, free from the shackles of
rhyme. My success depends on your ability
to interpret what I have written.Could I yet
become the Picasso of poetry? Do I
dismiss the beauty of Shakespeares sonnets?
Do I discard the delicate inner-woven rhythms
of Poe? Was Frost on the wrong road in his
"The Road Not Taken"? I would doubt that.

But, when I take my pen in hand
to write new poetry,
it still comes out in rhythmic form-
Dear Lord, please set me free.
D

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I have a major conflict between free verse and verse that rhymes.

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A poetic essay of sorts

Shackled By Rhyme

by jaybird1

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