Monday, May 2, 2011

Day 29 An Ode

Bad Babies

When I was a young mother
I’d become exasperated at people,
usually more experienced moms,
who’d ask me, “Is she a good baby?”
What was I supposed to say,
“Lucky me, I birthed a bad one.”

At first I’d reply sarcastically,
“She hasn’t robbed any banks yet.”
But then I mellowed a little and said,
“She’s a very good baby—
fussy-but a very good baby.”
She didn’t sleep well her entire first year.

Poems are just like babies,
no such thing as a bad one,
not publishable maybe, but not bad.
They just need to grow,
develop and mature.

Despite their clunky meters,
trite rhymes, clichéd similes,
passive verbs, and wordiness,
with a little attentive revision
they can turn into poems
you can be proud of.

So here’s to bad poems--
by giving yourself permission
to write drivel
you give yourself opportunity
to write classics.

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