Dirt

I don't even think this is poetry. Somebody on WC asked me to write a poem, a genre I know nothing about, and this was the result.

Dirt is the opiate,

Of the small child.

Reviews

It's brilliant - absolutely brilliant. Weren't you wanting to say more . . . ? I can sense a deeper connection somewhere . . . somewhere in the dirt . . . Did Calvin, the equivalent of your inner child, get high on dirt? Or is it the other kind of dirt? double meanings? . . . I see . . . (if you could see me now I am nodding and smiling in approval of your ability to reach so deeply into your innerhoodismness . . .)

U R 2 cool. lol

[Sasha]

Lol! Your description is funny. I've said the same of my poems.
I'm not gonna tell you how incredibly brilliant this is because... c'mon. But for two very short lines, it does clearly convey your message. If you expanded on it, I have no doubts it would be an excellent poem.

[LostInThought ♥]

I would count it as a poem, but that can be argued both ways... other than that, this was very nice. Short, sweet and to the point.. :) Good write

[Zephyr]

lol this is short, cute, and very true.
one suggestion: i think the comma is unneccesary.

[Mark Pearce]

A wonderful work, and yes � I would call it a poem.

So many people get hung up on form and length, rhyme and meter.

If words make you alter the normal assumptive thought pattern, then it's poetry to me.

Thank you for keeping it to the point.

[Marie]

This was really nice.

[Pema Dorje]

lol, indeed! and poetry is mud in your eye! happily....

[PianoandPage]

10 syllables. each one perfect.

[Alpha]

Ohh.. childhood. Sweet childhood.

[Celtic Cat]

It's a poem, and I love it. Makes me want to go outside in the rain and make mud pies. Excellent!! You know, maybe that's why gardening appeals to me now, it's a legitimate excuse to go out and play in the dirt. Not that I often do... it just APPEALS to me, lol.
Anyway, I think you should write more poems. You're off to a good start!

[hyancynthstofeedthysoul]

it is a poem. at least it meets this deinition.

A poem begins in delight and ends in wisdom.
Robert Frost