It is very clear to me that your main poetry skill lies in not writing poetry, ever.
Certainly, you are very handsome. And your ears have a quality to them that I suppose some people would find highly interesting. But poetry? No – better stick to prose.You like stick insects, you go on holiday to Wales, and you have three cats all named Smiffy. But that doesn’t make you a poet. It makes you almost embarrassingly beautiful to behold, but there’s more to rhyming than your supremely attractive toes and your delicate nostrils.
I say this – take your blue shoes, and run to the nearest novelist to ask for a job. Because poetry is not your gig, no sirree Bob.
One last thing – is that a wig?
Random Poetry!
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Cruel Is The Mother
Cruel is the mother whose hands rip and rupture the earthCruel is the mother whose gaze freezes water
Cruel is the mother whose breath blows down forests
Cruel is the mother whose tears are torrents flooding the lands
Cruel is the mother whose mouth spits fire into the air
Cruel is the mother whose footsteps flatten mountains
Cruel is the mother whose great arms create great waves
Cruel is the Mother, that Mother of Nature.
John Rice
The author encourages parents, teachers and librarians to read the poems to children and young people. However, the poems are copyright John Rice 2014 and cannot be reproduced without the express permission of the author.
