A protest in (literally) “blank” verse


Featured-Image-PavanRChawla-on-Fake-VerseToday, nearly everyone’s a poet. I come across some great poetic expressions, but more often than not, looking at the ‘poetry’ some of today’s so-called poets inflict on social media, I’m strongly inclined to substitute the ‘content’ of the ‘C’ in UGC with another less charitable word.

So here, trying to copy the same same vein and general quality of quite a bit of today’s so-called poetry, is my fake-verse, literally ‘blank’ on any thought, flow or emotion. Not something I’m proud of having slapped together, but well, just my token protest!

There was a time,
poetry was verse —
thoughts that
flowed,
with a soul,
a meter, that
danced through
blank verse too; 
not obtuse,
archaic prose —
flat sentences
broken
into jagged,
left-aligned
soulless layouts,
masquerading as
blank,
fake verse.
Bilious, billowing
blustery buffoonish
sentences
barfed by
self-proclaimed
bards in
crank-and-slap
hash-slinger
fashion –
sticking,
stinking,
like what
hits the fan.

I know this is as subjective as it can get. So join in. Tell me what you think. Share your views through the comments below. Thanks for reading this, and have a great time ahead.


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