Beauty And The Beast
A poem is constructed
Of meter and timing
A work of word art
Full of rhythm and rhyming
While prose is but a solid workman, for whom art is a stranger; devoid of artifice and glamour.
Which when placed
In the space
Of a beautiful poem
Might just make
One stammer...
To be sure, prose is a beast, bereft of wistful weft; bringing pain, not with beauty - but, with the arc of a heavy hammer.
-DeRicki
Equal Under the Sun
Poetry displays flamboyant colors
bolts of life
flowing dresses made of
natural hand-woven material
draped in abandon
seamless rhythmical art
with abstract expression
of free thoughts.
Prose chooses outfit carefully
precisely buttoned
channeled flow of energy.
Strategically dressed
to make the best impression
tie carefully chosen
shoes polished.
Poetry and Prose
Individuals but equal
under the sun.
The professor and the dancer.
One speaks with stoic structure,
the other paints a picture.
While one is lecturing and defining,
The other is designing, refining.
The fluid tap, tap, tap of methodical quotes,
Pales in comparison to the rhythmic shuffle of surreal notes.
As one stands in monotonous black and white,
The other is bright in colors of delight.
While one twirls and swirls beautifully,
Its opposite details and scribbles dutifully.
Both, entirely dignified, and bona fide,
But only one gets amplified while the other is modified.
Ink
Her pen flutters across the page, she is creating a work of art, she said. She is writing a poem.
Words weaving in and out, breaking apart and eloping. All the while she bleeds onto the paper.
His pen marks the page with precision, he's creating a new world, he said. He is writing prose.
Words delicately fall into place, meanings weaving in and out. All the while, his tears hit the paper and become ink.
po·et·ry
(noun)
Literary work in which special intensity is given to the expression of feelings and ideas by the use of distinctive style and rhythm; poems collectively or as a genre of literature.
prose
(noun)
Written or spoken language in its ordinary form, without metrical structure.
Or, that's how it's seen by the rest of the world,
isn't it?
We poets, we writers,
We know the difference.
po·et·ry
(noun)
Love. Loss. Joy. Despair. Life. Death.
Not meant to be contained. Not meant to be categorized.
Hope. Fear. Smiles. Tears.
Thoughts spilled upon pages. Emotion let loose from its cage.
Night. Day.
Poetry.
prose
(noun)
A story, scrawled upon a bathroom stall in minutes or spanning novels written in decades. It's a plan and a draft and corrections and improvements, making beautiful creations. It's to be described only as one thing: prose.
