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  • D. Ellsworth

Supposed Definition Of Poetry

Poetry is intended to express what is a commonality to mankind. Which means that everyone should relate to the sentiment or emotion of the work. Other works in poetic form are formally called verses. (Or that's what my rhyming dictionary says.)

Here are three examples. One is nostalgia, On The Edge.

One is didactic, pointing out that perception is individual, Perception. One is about the times we all have when we are somewhat bummed, spiced with some suggestion, Paradise Won.

All are meant to evoke the emotion noted and to end up with an inspirational lilt. I feel these poems meet the criteria of shared human experience. Feel free to comment.

On The Edge

Age thirteen and fourteen

sit on the divan

sprinkling giddy-giggles

behind each small han'

We sit in our recliners

and remember once again

the hope, joy, anticipation

mixed with anxiety's pain.

They look at us in wonder

as if we knew naught of their ways

for thy think we wander helpless

in a hoary aged maze.

But they don't consider

we once had a first dance,

our hearts tripped like hammers

at a romantic chance.

If they only knew some memories

just more vibrant grow

and emotions at ebb tide

stay fresh in ages snow.

But it really doesn't matter

they must forward go

and deal with the consequence

romance or no.

Although they think us relics

and look on us with pity

I would not change a thing

not a dot or a ditty.

It's all a rite of passage

and they're on the verge.

Each thing they experience

a note in childhood's dirge.


Life is mostly point of view,

and some points are blunted,

either by genetic happenstance

or curiosity that's stunted.

As with a pencil point,

blunter draws a wider line,

thus losing the clarity

which subtleties define.

Global reasoning leads to

stereotype, discrimination,

and a truth which resides

only in imagination.

But this only changes

with the participant's view

so presenting another side

is all we can do.

Then if the same verse

beats without cease,

simply say,


Paradise Won

Our minds are full of

canyon and peak

and sedentary like water

the nadir point we seek.

In the deepest crevice

it is dark, and steep each wall,

and a lonely, gray sky

is spread coldly over all.

Just don your climbing gear

and struggle to the height

you will find

serenity, beauty, delight.

But if you turn away

continue to slog

if you don't hit the quagmire

you'll sure stay in the bog.

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