Come Casual

1.  A famous philosopher, Immanuel Kant, as an aside said, “Poetry without rhyme is prose gone mad”.  I think poetry without rhyme is cheating, taking the easy way out.  I cheat more than I would like.  Maybe this form of writing should have its own name, something like “Prosery”.

2.  The chance of an original thought in writing, one which has not been voiced before, is remote.  About the best we can hope to do is phrase it in a different way.

3.  I believe rhyme in poetry is like sugar in coffee which leaves a sweetness lingering on the tongue.

4.  A poem is the mood and feeling of a moment, not of a life.

5.  There is a difference between seeking critical reviews and fishing for compliments.  Your writings should be found and appreciated, or not, as the reader is inclined.  The other option is that they never be found at all.

6.  Writing allows you to discuss with yourself, uninterrupted, matters which are difficult to discuss with others.

                                                                                                                             rlkilgore

rlkilgore@chartertn.net

                Tall and slender,
                  In white pants
            Sprinkled with sequins
      That sparkled without gaudiness,
              And a top to match,
          She moved with her partner
                  To the parquet
                In front of the band.

                Black, cropped hair
        Accentuated the white ensemble,
              She passed under the arm
                    Of her partner.
                Then swayed in time
                  With the rhythm.

      The music began pounding, pulsing
                    And she danced -
                Oh, how she danced!
                No spotlight was needed
                    For she radiated.
        Others served merely as bit players,
            Supporting cast for the diva.

            Her back upright and straight,
                A music box ballerina,
                    Chin up-tilted in
              Aloofness and confidence,
                  Lower back arched
                To emphasize buttocks,
                      An arm freed
                Of her partner stretched
                  In graceful extension,
                      Wrist flexed
                  To extended fingers,
                Held in place a moment
                  For our appreciation,
                    Then withdrawn
                In sweeping movement
            To flow into continuous motion
                  Of turns and postures,
              Performed by her svelte figure
    With hips and legs and arms and shoulders -
                  Harmonized beauty -
                    This Lady in White.

    We knew, in comparison, we would appear
        As plowboys plodding with bare feet
                So we sat, intimidated.
                   
                                            rlkilgore@chartertn.net