Poet Snobbery

TO GO WITH AFP STORY BY ROBERT MACPHERSON "LIFESTYLE-US-DRINK-BEER" A man samples beer at Savor, a craft beer show, at the Building Museum in Washington on June 8, 2012. A growing number of Americans have developed a passion for full-flavored beers from small-volume, fiercely independent local breweries that are redefining how the United States takes its favorite tipple. AFP PHOTO/Nicholas KAMM = MORE PHOTOS IN IMAGE FORUM = (Photo credit should read NICHOLAS KAMM/AFP/GettyImages)

I hope to one day have the confidence and presentation skills to say this at a high end poetry recital. Fuck you guys!

“Where’s your meter?” he said?
As if to dismiss every inkling and war that’s gone through my head,
So you want me to conform to your rules instead?

Don’t worry,
With prose like ours, metronomes vanish,
Besides this language I use, is only English.

You see it’s a matter of tragedy,
That whilst you were in the dark ages, we’re the ones who mastered poetry.

Writing rules become prison bars,
For those who can’t see far,

Beyond their spectacle dented noses,
They can only pose as,
We drop words on pages,
And give sermons like Moses.

Yeah, he once had a lisp and lacked the confidence,
Raised his heart to his Lord,
And became a poetic prophet with vengeance.

Spat truth so deep forced the people repentance,
Had them submitting before he finished a sentence.

So you really want to do this word dance?
Wanna’ take a chance?
Lift your fists, avant garde,
When you’ve never taken a fighters stance?

You want to pose your attention at the words I write?
Try to catch me out of sync and turn out my light?
Fault my meter dull my rights to write?
Because you have some poetry insight?

Bitch please, sit yourself back down,
Yeah….. Over there, in that corner, wear your frown,
Leave us be, no in fact turn around,
We don’t want your input, ya’ pompous clown.

To all the lazy snobbery elite, too pompous to explore anything other than what they deem high society poetry, looking down on younger generations trying as they may to make words their lives in whatever style they know, be it rap, spoken word, written word, hip hop or poetry.

You do this full time and struggle with your lives,
Whilst we do it second nature, part time,
Because beneath our breasts are unsettled hives!

-W.E.

p.s. Inspired by a cool poet when she mentioned something about meter, and not really being aware of it, like as if that was the pre-requisite to being able to write. But this has been brewing for a couple of weeks as I read more and more articles of poetry snobbery and listened to bickering about what is or isn’t poetry.  She has an amazing ability to write and I am glad she wasn’t dismayed (as are many youth and even adults) from words and poetry. Whatever it is your style, enjoy words, they can heal or at least help get you through things.

p.p.s. Check out this ultra cool Australian Luka Lesson at Australia’s most popular poetry slam hands down.  Bankstown Poetry Slam

 

 

 

24 thoughts on “Poet Snobbery”

    2. That’s how we do it yeah? Got something to spit back, bring it…. I’m so tempted to post his pathetic attempt to play people down, but I’ll leave it be, cause I heard a certain event went above and beyond and grabbed national TV, a whole 7 minutes or so whilst poet friends keep playing journo to himself and two cafe friends.

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  4. As a snob, let me say, well done on calling out pretentious people. I love that first photograph. It was the perfect critique: A man is reading a book, standing with a bag slung over his shoulder and drinking from a wine glass all at the same time. (Pearls were clutched and emergency services were called to revive me.) That is the essence of poet snobbery. It’s a lot of nonsense and none of it lends itself to creative freedom. We are free, and yes, it’s annoying to be told we’re “doing it wrong” but so what?! Warm wishes. xo

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    1. Oh gee… What a comment….. Left me all batter fingers. Thank you kindly. See that’s all it takes and you’ve piqued my curiosity. Takes his slippery self over to some buttery goodness…. Do I smell biscuits? 🙏

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  9. This is fantastic- Delicious, it’s the poetry of my wishes. I dream of expressing both soul and wit. sometimes it might seem I am a slave to the rhyme and metric. Other times rhyme and meter are my bitches, but sometimes I wish I could just flow. I try to let go because I know how to do it and my brain just itches.

    And I know we all dream of writing like Paul: it’s perfection, a vocabulary explosion, depth and meaning, painting rhyme or freedom, motion and complex emotion with what sometimes seem like simple words, tied together in perfection.

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