What month this is I think I know.

This writing style is apropos;

To honor poetry and those

Like Shakespeare, Dickinson, and Poe.

To celebrate them, I propose,

Before I start my metered throes,

To explicate what separates

A poem from a piece of prose.

Though the two sometimes conflate

(In classifying there’s debate),

It’s elevating words through craft;

Diverse ideas to illustrate.


Shall I compare verse to a summer’s day

Where sunshine meets the cooling ocean’s breeze;

That welcome brilliance after June and May,

And famous fogs that blanket all one sees?

O no! It is an ever-changing thing

Encompassing far more than charm or rhyme.

For poets’ work is making language sing

In tandem they develop over time.


For rhyme is a thing like feathers —

Trips lightly off the tongue —

And yet — it would be out of place —

In certain types of work —


Poets of Japan

Measured their metric footfalls

Sunlight through water.


yet      get

modern poetry



little stanzas

nonsensish wordage


[isn’t this      dada-ish]

unto wordy gurdy

quips in twee


playful silly spilling

look      assonance and rhyming

(outside parentheses)

infernal vernal spree

yet poetry



I will arise and point out, your appetite to whet,

Some of our local poets, of fame and firestorm made

A Pulitzer awardee, a former state laureate,

And one you want for your MFA.

Though you may love perusing, you may prefer to that,

Reciting from your own books of writings in coffehouses warm:

Rebecca’s on a Tuesday, or Monday at Lestat’s,

Point Loma, where Lazy Hummingbirds swarm.

We will arise and go out, for anywhere we are,

We hear those words like music from poets new and past;

While reading at the beaches or driving in a car.

Life’s delicate, but words will last.


I have written

these words

in the style

not my own

at which

you are probably


your head

Forgive me

it was delicious

and fun


Works parodied (in order of appearance):

Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost

Sonnets 23 and 116 by William Shakespeare

”Hope” is the thing with feathers by Emily Dickinson

Haiku of Matsuo Bashō

[hist whist] by E. E. Cummings

The Lake Isle of Innisfree by W. B. Yeats

This Is Just To Say by William Carlos Williams

Libby Weber is a contributor to Voice of San Diego. Follow her on Twitter @thelibbyweber or email libbyweber@gmail.com.

Libby Weber is a contributor to Voice of San Diego. Follow her on Twitter @thelibbyweber or email libbyweber@gmail.com.

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