Fetter Free - 0168
Olympic gymnasts' swings and roundabouts
can't torch a candle when compared to me
or you who role-reverse creatively
formal restrictions which most do without.
Four years of toil and trouble, deadline doubts,
throw gauntlet down to challenge gravity,
to humour spent self-confidence at sea,
then gain momentum through true craft that flouts
free-form abandon, lazy louts' crass shouts
below mean mental promiscuity,
teenage angst, blank vents that scream 'I'd BE
if only some could hear, applaud, my clout! '
Formal frontiers' false complexity
doffs jesses, flawless tress weaves, fetter free.
(13 January 2010)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Added by Poetry Lover
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