Under my skin
         solar flares lie
                         dormant
                                  tickling
                                 and
                       itching
                trying
                      to
                 OUTGAS
        TO THE DARK SIDE    
    OF EONS - THE MOONS
OF SATURN WHICH BREAK
     LIKE BILLIARD *****
        ON THEIR WAY TO
                NEBULAE
            have
     become
the pupils
of my
      eyes...
            my vision
                    blinded
                 by the

        sun.


Cathy Jarvis
3/21/2019

What's it take
These days

To write a poem

That makes the world go mad
That brings the crowds to their feet
That spreads like wildfire
Through a dry winter forest

Is it those excessively long words?
The ostentatiously loquacious
Platitudinous ramblings
Of an insecure mind aspiring
To authentic intellect?

Is it perhaps...
     the "creativity"
               of      varied      spacing
  or...    could it be..... the lack
                              of capitalization
               the loathsome little letters
               screaming out
                         hey, look at us!
         ... or maybe it's
               the punctuation marks,
     littered, haphazardly
          through the text
                    (whether used correctly)
               or, theyre not?!
     despite worrds mispeled
          and a grammar might is broken
   can these gimmicks increase interest
        though miswritten or misspoken?

Is the trick alliteration
Whose bite brightly bids us
To center on the snappy sounds?
Although all along
     unvoiced underneath
Ideas idle in the isles
   (or perhaps the aisles)
Of the mind
To meld and craft and bind
Our thorough thoughts
And worthy words
Into lines
Which
Heard by herds
Raise the
                  Praise for which we
                  Privately, desperately
                  Pray

Maybe it's a magical mix
Of splendid in-your-head rhythm
Marvelous meter that perfectly clicks
Flowing smoothly without schism

Well-spaced stanzas
Well-used time
Well-crafted phrases
Well-thought-out rhymes

Well, maybe not...
     those gems are often ignored
     cast-aside, unread, even abhorred

Why?

Because the modern world
doesn't need your rules
your restrictions
your regulations
your misguided boundaries
your oppression
your antiquated ideas
   of "the right way"
   to write
   to speak
   to act
   to live
   to (fill in the blank)

No, what the modern world needs
is
Negation!
Contradiction!
Resistance!
Revolt!

And poetry whose words
Say the same thing
Repeat the same meaning
Echo the same lyrics
Rephrase the same thoughts
But in an ever-so-slightly
Different
Varied
Altered
Adjusted
Changed up way

Line
After line
Of synonyms
          over
               and
                    over
                         and
                              over
                                   again

-----

What's it take
These days

To not give in
To narcissism's spiral?

But more importantly:
What's it take

To make my poem go viral?

take me under your wings
push me up to the sky
                  let me fly
                          let me fly
                                   let me fly
                    i’ve got my             wings now
             they’re full of the wind now
watch me go
                      watch me go watch me
let me fly much to high
        and when       i die
             throw me the roses
                    bury me deep
                            and bury      me next to you
                             let me fly
                             let me     fly
                       let me

I'd rather give you
real ones
and real kisses
and real love

We could make it real
one day

If I ever
get cold
and wield my
syllables
against
your hot
naivete,
it's
just because
you're intact.
Who am I
to
harden you?
It's
a problem.