Why I hate poems - A poem by me

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First of all, I don't hate poems. I woke up one morning with this poem completely formed inside my head, so I wrote it down.
Hope you get a laugh out of the irony in writing a poem called why I hate poems.

What is with you emo kids
who sit here all day long
and listen to whiny poetry
instead of a happy song?

You say we understand you not
but you made yourself that way.
If you would just stop whining and see
that today is a whole new day.

Why would you use a thousand words
when you needed only one?
you could just say "She's beautiful"
and then you would be done.

That she is like a rose
what des that even mean?
Does she have leaves or petals?
Thats something I've never seen.

Why there are rules in poetry
I never understood
why can't you say whats on your mind
without worrying what rimes with understood?

I paint, I write and I sing songs
I've been told I'm quite creative
but when it comes to poetry
I think its just sedative!

I wonder what the hell my subconsciousness is up to...

A poem by you topic

Dear Anders TheAspie

Such a interesting poem by a young person. My teens wonder all the time whey I bother with the rhyming songs--and they are NT.
I will tell you the what and the wherefore of the reason for the rhymes.

A poem is not just a poem. There is a whole complicated life around each word, line, stanza, verse. And the atmosphere surrounding each poem! The whole is greater than the sum of its parts.

Then there is the creator of the poem. Who is the poet, and what is his/her life all about that would lead up to such a literary creation? You seem to have alluded this in your own poem.

I appreciate irony, humour and even sarcasm. A love of poetry is not for everyone, in the same way not everyone enjoys video games, Dr. Who, anime, manga, MSN, chatrooms, facebook, IPods, and Wii, to name but a few of the interests of some people that I can live without.

I really like it!! !!

You should try to get this published.

I feel the same way about poetry. I've written only a few poems in my life, and they mostly came to me fully formed like yours did.

Most of my poems were about how much I hated the novels i had to read in high school.

they're not worth putting up here.

That's pretty good.

I realise the inherent irony in this poem, but I'm struggling to see where the line between what you actually think and what your narrator thinks is. Are you discounting all metaphor and simile?

She is like a rose - no she's not got petals, but she is rosey cheeked, she is delicate, by any other name she would smell as sweet, she is beautiful.

But hey, I've indulged in plenty of meta-poetry in my time.

Well this my question. Is the poem a joke? Are they a poet usually? Or have they written one poem ever, which is this poem about poems being s**t?

The poem is not a joke. Nor am I entirely sure if I can call it mine. It was written down by me, but it was created by my subconsciousness.

I really have no idea what caused this poem to form, as I genuinly enjoy poetry. I enjoy immagry and metaphors.

I have written other poems in my life, but none ever just "came" to me like this one. I found it fascinating how people I read the poem to often agreed with the words, even if I didn't myself. So I figured I would put it up here and see how fellow aspies react to it. Much the same it would seem.

Sometimes I wish I knew what the hell my subconsciousness is up to...

This is excellent-and right on target. Why not just write about something of interest, rather than using antiquated language.

Why walk anywhere when you can drive?

Why use an acoustic guitar when there are electric guitars?

Why have real social contact when MSN and myspace and facebook exist?

I thought that was pretty good!

THE PALETTE OF THE POET

There are certain colors
Very popular,
Like a child's strong reds,
Deep blues, elemental hues,
Strong shades of love, desire.
Sometimes young poets
Get stuck
On the sharp barb of "f**k".
A strong splash of hate
Can be the tool
To concentrate the feel
Of language into steel.
But, too soon,
The disgrace
Dulls down to commonplace.
It requires more care
To ensnare the muted tones
Of subtlety, of evanescent
Momentary fancies
That float by like puffs of steam
Or thoughts from a recent dream.
Frightened mice
That dart in and away,
And are as difficult to catch
And snare in firm phrases;
Something that amazes
Even the one
Who fixes this phenomenon
Like a captured sun.

THE LETTERS AND THE WORDS

Someone has written
That letters lie on the page
Like small black dead things,
Or, perhaps asleep. The rage
Or joy that gives words wings
Requires they be infused,
That they be smitten with a thought
Make them enthused
That their stiff legs
Would wiggle in delight
To taste the sauce of mind.
They must become the pegs
Hammered into the wall of night
That it be cracked so dreams
Filled with fright, with light,
With all the depth and height
Of memories tight stacked
Come crashing out
To growl and cry
And laugh and shout.

Poems by them topic

AndersTheAspie, all-inspiring muse.

Sand the poster is full of thoughts, full of reason and rhyme. Good.

We Aspies are certainly creative.

if the poem is about hating poems, then the poem should be about how u hate poems, which it is not. the poem is good, but i dont get the irony, if you look at what irony is.