Prose Is the New Poetry
by Stephany Spencer-LeBaron

A poem is never finished.

PROSE IS THE NEW POETRY
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 lyrical poet!
For today’s fake poets
Have taken the lion’s share. 
With pen in hand 
And lack of care,
They’ve derailed 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, 
And poetry’s modern curse, 
Is “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 and know it,
They’ve hijacked the gift –
They’ve named prose
“The new poetry”!😡
And they denigrate poets
Who scribe rhythm ’n’ rhyme,
Calling their work childish—
“Of the Dr. Seuss kind.”😳
E.G.:
They claim Hiawatha* doesn’t fit 
Modern meanings of Posey,
So Longfellow wasn’t a poet! 
But say they don’t know yet 
How to classify him or “it”! 😖

Well they can take such shit 
And shove it!
Lesser intellects love it 
That 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 verse exclusively
But Time is of the essence,
So I may pen poetry
Lacking good sense, 
‘Cause writing in rhythm and rhyme
Requires more time
Than penning a prose sentence.

But here’s where 
“Prose is the new poetry“
Comes in very handy:
My regular writing,
By today’s version 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:
For me,
Poetry is prose 
In rhythm and rhyme.

And I’m putting poets 
Back on the pedestal
Where they deserve 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” 
Exclusively.
So said, I’ll see you 
In the next go-around
Coming around quickly.

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

 *The Song of Hiawatha – Wikipedia

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Song_of_Hiawatha

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.