Stephens Press book designer extraordinaire Sue Campbell is a closet poet — who knew? She’s been persuaded to share a bit of rhyme about the poet’s bane, “da rules”.
Poetry Anarchy
by Sue Campbell (2007)
What are the rules for poetry?
Who knows about voice, and meter and timing?
Oh, and never mind rhyming.
That, I could never do.
Sure, it’s pretty simple
to find a rhyme for blue.
But what about orange, or purple?
Does it matter
when words don’t want to patter?
Instead preferring to shuffle, or plod, or slink.
The picture is the thing
that makes poetry sing.
Words are paint, to be slathered,
stippled, babbled and dribbled.
But I, since I’m clueless, and ruleless
am free to sling words with abandon,
seeing what sticks,
and what runs down the page.
Smearing in embarrassment, at being used
and abused by one who knows no rules.