For the Wretched PoetA Poem by Paden HaynesI was feeling a trifle whimsical, and a trifle Seussian. Enjoy!This is the eulogy of punctuation: Its sad final love song, its elegy. To the period, the comma, the sweet exclamation— To all of the passion, what it means now to me. This is the period. Solid and stout. It doesn't sing. It doesn't shout. It simply just sits there. It's such a bore. Too many periods make reading a chore. This is exclamation! Just one will do! Unless you're in Mexico! ¡Then use two! Use them with caution, care, and grace! Too many's like reading a slap in the face! Commas are lazy, boring, and bland, Your sentences run on much longer than planned, You just cannot stop, your poetry's great, But stop with the commas, was it something you ate, And speaking of questions, how are you today? Are you lost? Are you weary? Can you not find your way? Why, you should ask questions, now, don't you agree? But I have a question: do you have to ask me? A dash is a border—a wall, moat or fence— That you use for ideas far too tragic—immense— To be held in a sentence—a line or a phrase— It lets the eye linger—for days and for days— A colon's a difficult concept to grasp: Use it for lists, a mid-sentence break, or to clasp The reader's attention; while its cousin, Semi Removes tricky syllables from metered poetry. I am a grammarian, born, bound, and bred: A champion of poets and poetry— How would poetic rocket-ships be led Without good grammar's telemetry? © 2008 Paden HaynesReviews
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Added on February 11, 2008AuthorPaden HaynesAboutWhere to begin? Do I begin with the adventures of homeschooling, the thrill of being brought up fundamentalist pentacostal and survivalist? Adventures in the woods? My sudden thrust into the world .. more..Writing
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