I AM NOT AN ARTIST #1.
I am not an artist.
Not the smartest.
I draw lines.
Entangled entwined.
I am not painter.
Art — no acquainter.
I am not an artist.
Though I am not heartless.
I try to be creative.
And not be vegetative.
I am not an artist.
From those true, I am farthest.
I AM NOT AN ARTIST. #2.
Da Vinci is an artist.
Michelangelo is an artist.
Picasso is an artist.
Raphael is an artist.
Greek vases and their artists.
My contemporaries are artists.
I am not an artist.
I am an amateur looking in
From the fringes
From the outside
Wishing
Hoping
That I could be like them, you.
I AM NOT AN ARTIST. #3.
I am not an artist.
I live in software art.
Virtual. Not reality.
I am not an artist.
I do not use pencils.
I do not use brushes.
I do not use clay.
I do not use acrylics.
I do not use oils.
I use pre-determined software.
I am not an artist.
I am a fake.
A ruse.
Compared to you all who are
Accomplished
Evolving
Compared to you all
I am extinct.
I AM NOT AN ARTIST. #4.
I never said I was a drawer.
No. not a dresser.
Not a chiffonier.
I never said I was a sketcher.
With a piece of charcoal.
I never said I was twisted
Like Van Gogh.
Gosh. He was not twisted!
I’m twisted in my own way.
Not original.
Following.
You know, like on Face Book.
Accolades.
Wanting likes and loves.
Virtural reality.
I never said I was a drawer.
Maybe something is drawing me.
I AM NOT A POET #1.
I am not a poet laureate
Capturing, training words with a lariat.
No William Shakespeare I.
To say so is a lie.
Who then now is a crowning poet?
More than rhyming can you show it?
I’ve no skill at all to poem,
My words do want that decorum.
Poetry, poems, ringing rhymes,
Laureates all so true do shine.
I AM NOT A POET #2.
I am not a poet laureate
Capturing, training words with a lariat.
No William Shakespeare I.
To say so is a lie.
Who then now is a crowning poet?
More than rhyming can you show it?
I’ve no skill at all to poem,
My words do want that decorum.
Poetry, poems, ringing rhymes,
Laureates all so true do shine.
I AM NOT A POET #3.
I am not a poet.
I imitate the kind.
I find a word and throw it
For only readers to find.
A poem is quite ample.
A poem is total bliss.
A poem is pure example.
A poem is not amiss.
I am not a poet.
I never said I am.
I simply felt I owe it.
Honest by command.
I AM NOT A POET #4.
I confess to making rhymes
No poet I this time.
But awkward clumsy weird syntax?
No excuse for being lax!
You’ve no right to “give me break”
Fake of a poet — I’m on the make.
So, I ask: “cut me some slack”
While I toss out words fast as flap jacks.
If you catch me writing poems
Bow not your head with grunted groans.
I try my best to do this craft
Hard to do with all your laugh.
I AM NOT A POET #5.
Pseudo-poet, yes, I am.
My poetry is all a sham.
Another faker can you name?
I’m one and only, what a shame.
A poet me? I do pretend.
Nothing else do I intend.
I say in truth, I am a lie.
To this in court I’ll testify.
A pseudo-poet. This is me.
Is that so contradictory?
I AM NOT A POET #6.
Am I a poet? Dare I say —
I am but a needle in a stack of hay.
Am I a poet? Do not believe.
I wear my heart on ragged sleeve.
Am I a poem or puppet man?
I write with tricks, sleight of hand.
Am I poet or fleeting ghost?
Search no further than do most.
Am I poet — literate lie?
Or delusional wordsmith to your naked eye?
I AM NOT A POET #7.
A poem does not a poet make.
I am, therefore, a total fake.
A poet I? For goodness sakes!
A poet true does not forsake.
My poetry all — ALL half-baked.
Tell me: “Go! Go jump in a lake!”
My poetry please do buy and take.
But sue me not for all mistakes.
I AM NOT A POET #8.
I am not a poet, don’t you see?
My words do struggle in a melee.
I am not a poet, all agree.
This made certain government decree.
I am not a poet, A to Z.
Never said I am, actually.
I am not a poet — no mystery.
My poetry is all hypocrisy.
A WRITER’S LIFE.
A writer’s life is boring.
Take me at my word.
Oops. Sorry. “word” is the wrong “word.”
(the writer in me).
Cooped up like the best:
Shakespeare,
Homer,
Miller,
Marlowe,
Milton,
Greene,
Inside my little ghetto studio apartment
Scribbling, hand-writing, hand printing.
Damn, my life is boring, boring, boring, doing this!!!!!!!!
Playing with words.
I’m a wall-flower.
A nerd.
A joke.
My “writer’s life” is a complete bore.
I’m trapped.
No one wants a bore.
But I still do this stuff.
Because this is my cosmic
Birthday present ………..