Prose Is the New Poetry
by Stephany Spencer-LeBaron

Photo by Nu00f3ra Zahradnu00edk on

“A poem is never finished.”

Part One

Dearest Friend:

Says Voltair, 
To hold a pen is to be at war”
And don’t we know it 
If we are a modern poet.
For today’s fake poets
Have taken the lion’s share: 
With pen in hand, 
And lack of care,
They’ve pierced great poetry 
That once was there.

Nevertheless, I love your Rap. 
It’s better than much modern crap
Wannabe poets put on the map.
What they compose, 
Called exquisite prose,
Is really weak verse.
With a Pinocchio nose,🤥
That grows and grows,
Encased in the guise 
Of a Poet’s clothes!🤬
At best, they’re poets
Whose medium is prose.

What’s worse? 
Poetry’s modern curse: 
“Authorities” have changed 
The meaning of verse!
In my estimation, 
That’s poet-defamation
Egregiously fomenting
The poet’s hearse!😢

Some Profs of poesy
Envy Poets in history.
Wanting to be called “Poet,”
But aren’t, can’t, and know it,
They’ve hijacked the gift:
They’ve named prose
“The new poetry!😡

They denigrate poets
Who scribe rhythm ’n’ rhyme,
Calling their work childish—
“Of the Dr. Seuss kind.”😳

They claim Hiawatha* doesn’t fit 
Modern meanings of Posey
So Longfellow wasn’t a poet; 
But they don’t know yet, 
How to classify him or “it”! 😖

Well, they can take such shit 
And shove it!
Lesser intellects love it: 
They’ve downgraded
And rewritten history,
Even in the case of poetry!
But as for me, an old-timey,
I’ll take rhythm ’n’ “rhymie”
As opposed to today’s “prosey”
By less-gifted gentry.

On a lighter note,
I’ve loved our jamming
And the poem you wrote.

 Your Rap takes the cake
For award-winning slamming.
You’ve come out on top, 
Hands down! 

I’ll expound 
In our next go-around.
Your friend on the rebound

Part Two:
Prose Is the New Poetry:
Our next go-around

Dearest Friend:
I’d like to write verse exclusively.
But Time’s of the essence.
So though I may pen poetry
Lacking good sense, 
Writing rhythm and rhyme
Requires more time
Than penning a prose sentence.

But here’s where 
Prose is the new poetry
Does come in handy:
My regular writing,
By today’s definition of verse,
IS poetry.

At least it ain’t worse!

Now who’s foolin’ who?
Certainly nobody’s foolin’ you.
They can’t fool a Poet that’s true.
So I’m rewriting 
Today’s definition of poetry:

Poetry is prose 
In rhythm and rhyme.

Plus I’m putting poets 
Back on the pedestal

Where they should be—
Back to the future 
In “the new modernity”!

Prose poets are talented;
They possess possibility.
But only true poets
Can pen rhyming poetry.
So good luck and suck it up

If you’re a Wanabee 
Hoping to be called “Poet” 
So said, I’ll see you 
In the next go-around
Coming around quickly.

Till then
I ever remain 
A “Poet of Modernity” 
Rhyming on a dime 
Forever and eternally.

 *The Song of Hiawatha – Wikipedia

The Song of Hiawatha is an 1855 epic poem in trochaic tetrameter by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow which features Native American characters. The epic relates the fictional adventures of an Ojibwe warrior named Hiawatha and the tragedy of his love for Minnehaha, a Dakota woman.

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