I loathe syllable-counting poetry
The stresses are all in the wrong places
to make any sense of pentameter,
tetrameter, of iambs or dactyls.
Rhythm counts for nothing in a haiku.
Fibonacci poetry I deplore.
These ancient Japanese forms have a lot
to answer for. I digress – forgive me.
Prose poems in English must have a lilt,
pull the mind along to follow the thought.
I’ve been too busy to write this week, and I thought you might think I’d died or something, so a post wouldn’t come amiss. This is a form called “The Big 10,” from an old Poetic Asides prompt – with amazingly simple rules:
- The poem has to have 10 lines (no more and no fewer).
- Each line has to contain 10 syllables (again, exactly 10).
And that’s it!