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Free Verse Night (time-worn realization)

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.


Bluebell Books Twitter Club said...


Ella said...

It is a beautiful poem~
Yes, timeworn free verse! :D

SaraV said...

I love the image-words lay among the twisted papers/a battlefield with no form--Excellent!!

rch said...

Well sometimes it's good to just let go and see what comes out, especially when something good like your poem is the result.

Melissa Bickel said...

Thank you all so much for your comments I appreciate them and you.


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