They’re cheesy
Some of my poems I know
An imitation
Of ideas used to the point of being frayed
Tattered and in holes
No longer appealing
Until I take them
And give them a shiny new cover
Then they’re attractive...
To some
Who need the idea repeated to them
Or to those who truly appreciate poetry for its function as a medium
Through which ideas, old and new, are transmitted in
Attractive ways
So maybe it’s really the reader
What they
Need
Want
And see

When you write a poem
It's your
thoughts
emotions
experiences
Once you share it
It becomes a chameleon
Changing itself
Not to camouflage and hide
But to be viewed by each reader
in a personal and individualistic
Manner

How to write a bad poem.


Use words that simply rhyme like time and dime,,,
And line after line after line repeat the same line
Repeat your sentences to repeat your point
Without a true interpreter then what is the point!!!


I put no thought into lines without care.
I do not care if tHisss is spelled correctly; I do not care.
I do not care if you even care;
Without love and despair, poets will go nowhere.


Annoy the reader, reader, reader, reader, send them to sleep;
Speak only about other people’s cliché’s and ideals…and sheep.
Say line after line without thinking to read,
Judge someone for their mistakes.  Never be truthful and never free.


Never let the words fall onto the page, without feeling;
Never bother to read other poetry and never bother to try reading.
Never speak from the soul, without any kind of meaning.
This is the poem I do not care about…it’s time I was leaving.


(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.

"Oh!, was one of those amazing Friday afternoons
When I was enjoying a steaming cup of coffee
Along with a biscotti and imagining a perfect world
You know one of those perfect worlds
that exists in other suburbs, and other zipcodes
So I turned to poetry my favorite past time
and hoped to find meaning there
And you know what they say, whoever they are
They all say this, everyone of them,
so I imagine there must be some truth to their words
, "Fate is in charge of our destinies"
So I read your words flying through the matrix
Each rhythmic line, each word, each syllable
And I thought, "Hey this poet is onto something"
As those poetic words stopped me in my tracks
and held me starstruck and spellbound
Stunned, Yes poet I was more than stunned
Kind of like when I rode across the southern sky
In a gold chariot pulled along by Sirius
Though now as I finish my coffee and biscotti
I can only  imagine and wonder

I am a lonely book
On a dusty shelf
I am full of stories
Patiently waiting for a reader
To hang on every word
Read every line
Get lost between the pages
In my spine

I'm not much of a reader
But if I do, I could've read you
Behind your lushful words
Are barbwire of letters
It felt like drinking alcohol
Satisfying my thirst
Resting inside my body
Consuming every bit of me
Tearing everything that's inside me
I should've known
You're trying to **** me
Without you knowing
"Another bottle" you said
And I drank my heart out
I drank as if it could be my last
Because I want to be your last
Hoping that what we have would last
But it didn't, Nothing lasts forever
Those who believe it are fools
I guess you can call me one too

I'm not much of a reader
And I'm glad I'm not
Because If I could read you
I wouldn't have guts to tell you
That your words are hurting
And it is still getting out of my skin
You see, I got these scars
From your words
crawling out of my body

Since you've been gone
I grew tired of hearing
Endless tape recordings
Of mundane problems
Since you've been gone
I became a reader
Much more of a listener
I read peoples faces
How their eyes widen
When they smell fear
How the edge of their mouth
Touches their ears
Whenever they are happy
But most importantly
You freed me from the
Chainless chain of memories
Greeting me every morning
With unpleasant memory

Since you've been gone
I became truly happy