A
poem
in the shape
of a tree. A poem
about a tree in the shape
of a tree. Some will argue it’s neither
a poem nor a tree, not a real tree, anyway.
Critics will argue the tree is not a poem, because
it has neither rhyme nor stanzas, though the lines do
present shape. Some will say, as a critic once commented
following an investors’ viewing of a B movie still in the editing cut
phase: “Does anyone else feel a better use of this particular roll of celluloid
would be to cut it up for guitar picks?” Some will say the tree should be cut down,
or yanked out by enormous
dentistry-like heavy equipment,
the kind used to clear cut forests.
Thus we arrive at the bare tap root
of
the
ma
t
t
er.
… its shape distorted by a formatting cloud …
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Hey, Ashen! That’s good, the formatting cloud. I wish with WordPress I had true font size and style and the ability to set type. It’s a challenge, so limited, but I like messing around with it. Did you ever see this? caMels, whEN to caPITalize, & concrEte POEMS
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and
now comes
the morning star in search
of a tree
top
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Ah! And my tree should have included a bird. Next time.
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Perhaps explore e- tree poetry and save the pentameters .
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‘Ah, well! It means much the same thing,’ said the Duchess, digging her sharp little chin into Alice’s shoulder as she added, ‘and the moral of THAT is — “Take care of the sense, and the sounds will take care of themselves.”‘
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there are no ornaments. thus the bare tap root. that’s the matter.
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’tis indeed, the jester undressed, a poor sight to see, the poet without his motley.
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What is it , really ? A poet tree ?
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…And some would say, “Let’s decorate it!” Then it would be a poet tree.
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