The Interloper

rebellion_in_sanity

Paradise of Poetry,  
a place of reverence for all.  
There I arrived,  
an intruder, an interloper,  
with no poetic craft  
in my satchel.  

 

I got caught—  
the poetic policing  
recognized instantly  
my lack of craft.  

 

Well, my appearance and diction  were too commonplace.  

 

They allowed leave to remain  
for listening to a poetry competition.  
In their infinite compassion,  
they thought:  
a nitwit like myself could learn!

 

The poets stepped on stage,  
strode with carefully cultivated absentmindedness 
up to the dais.  

 

Then they took out their poems.  (Why did it remind me of someone  
unsheathing a sword with theatrical flourish?)  
Read them in perfect rhythm—  
sounded beautiful.  
Yet, why did English sound like French?  
Oh no, did it sound like  
Spanish or Italian?

 

Beautiful-sounding compression,  sweet and rhythmic—  
yet meanings were butterflies,  fleeting throughout,  
but never in grasp.

 

The less I understood,  
the more I clapped.  
Spanish or Italian,  
how did it matter?  
What mattered most  
was the display of my  
finer sense of comprehension.

 

On my way home,  
I pondered:  
Do I need to file for divorce  
from meanings  
(how much will the attorney charge?)  
if I don't want to remain  
a poetic interloper?

 

Alas, being a poor man,  
I hereby submit my inability to pay for the divorce.  
Hence, my prosaic poems  
are ill-fated to go on carrying meaning.

 

Perhaps I shall sell my poems  
with Accessibility symbols.  
Only artistically challenged  
shall be welcome.

 

...Well, what happens to compression and rhythm?  
This is their reverential funeral...  
A moment of silence—  
my dear madam and sir.

  • Author: Rebellion In Sanity (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: September 16th, 2025 07:03
  • Comment from author about the poem: Being artistically challanged, I often can't grasp the meanings.๐Ÿ˜‡
  • Category: Humor
  • Views: 8
  • Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange, Vogelfrei
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Comments +

Comments3

  • sorenbarrett

    A great write Demar, many of us have felt that way. We clap at what we don't understand so as to not look foolish but what we don't understand is many poems don't have any understandable meaning.

    • rebellion_in_sanity

      Please accept my gratitude for your support ๐Ÿ™. Appreciate your read and thoughts.

      • sorenbarrett

        A thousand pardons for getting the name wrong rebellion in my morning fog of reviewing everyone\'s poems a gear slipped. The words still stand but credit given erroneously to another is an unpardonable sin. I thank you for your gracious response and beg your apology

        • rebellion_in_sanity

          Absolutely no problem. To be honest I feel delighted by your read, the denomination never matters.

          • sorenbarrett

            Oh but it does and I hold your poetry in the highest respect. There is something in me that is irritated when a quote is ascribed to the wrong source.

          • NinjaGirl

            We all belong in the world of poetry, and everything can be interpreted in so many different ways. We're glad to have you here (:

            • rebellion_in_sanity

              Thank you so much for your read and acceptance of imperfection. I guess, that's what makes us humans. Appreciate your kindness ๐Ÿ™

              • NinjaGirl

                Of course!

              • Tristan Robert Lange

                My friend, this one made me grinโ€ฆthe self-mockery laced with sharp wit is priceless. Youโ€™ve captured the outsiderโ€™s view of poetry with humor and bite. ๐ŸŒน๐Ÿ–ค๐Ÿ™๐Ÿ•ฏ๏ธ๐Ÿฆโ€โฌ› And. You, my friend, ARE an artist as evidenced by this poem. A fave!

                • rebellion_in_sanity

                  Absolutely appreciate your generosity. Thank you very much ๐Ÿ™.
                  I always feel, it's safest to crack a joke at myself. Wanted to make the readers smile. It feels wonderful knowing it made you grin. Thank you ๐Ÿ™



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