My outside stroking your inside
Your inside gloving my outside
My outside stroking your
Inside gloving my
Stroking your
Gloving my
Stroking
Gloving
Stroking
Gloving
My your my your my your
Our
This poem was originally published in “The Fifth International Anthology on Paradoxism“, edited by Florentin Smarandache – who appears to live as a mathematician in a universe of paradox. It was republished in the Experimental section of Better Than Starbucks.
This blog advocates for the use of form, to the extent of questioning whether a piece that doesn’t rhyme and scan can even be considered poetry. Is this poetry, then? I think it hovers paradoxically on the edge. It may not rhyme or scan, but it has certain qualities of form:
It is word-for-word memorable through its expression. After all, it only uses seven different words, and they are clearly structured.
The lines are paired all the way, the second of each pair mirroring (or even fusing) the first.
There is a rhythm – a very human rhythm – to the piece, even if it doesn’t fall within poetic norms.
There is even, if you care to consider it, an aspect of concrete poetry about it.
And, if read in my English accent, the last word is a pun, being pronounced “Ahh!”
The simplicity of words, the structure of the lines, the rhythm of the piece, the aspect of concreteness and the pun all contribute to what the poem is trying to communicate.
If it is a poem.
Form in Formless Times 