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Free Verse

It's a free verse evening -
Words lay among the twisted papers
a battlefield with no form.

Meter refuses to be set -
leaving my words without rhythm.
It's liberating, not being confined.

Still, my words are artistic, a modern
Picasso revolution, heralding a
defiant battle cry...i am poetry

Little soldiers circle my head
seeking freedom - but not
in the classic tradition.

A restless yawn starts, I'm
engulfed in a Will-o'-the-wisp moment.

With one last stroke of the pen,
the tyranny ends -
free verse is the victor.

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