So,
she autistically
and powerfully
said,
One me
plus one you
makes two
And we two
minus one me
leaves you one
Which feels like not
quite enough
for ego sufficiency
But one whole lot more
than zero deficiency
Because Dr. Seuss sings
of zero BirthDay rings
and EndDaze spirited non-things
"If we didn't have birthdays,
you wouldn't be you.
If you'd never been born,
well then what would you do?...
Why you might be a WASN'T!
A Wasn't has no fun at all.
No, [s]he doesn't.
A Wasn't just isn't.
[S]he just isn't present.
But you...You ARE YOU!
And,
now isn't that pleasant!...
If you'd never been born,
then you might be an ISN'T!
An Isn't has no fun at all.
No [s]he disn't.
[S]he never has birthdays,
and that isn't pleasant.
You have to be born,
or you don't get a present."
And sacred co-prescience
One me
plus one you
makes two,
and now
aren't we pleasant
co-present?
Like the silver birch shaking its trunk
Autistically, in front of darkening grey skies,
How I yearn and pine to be able
To my tangled thoughts finally untie.
Forever grasping, casting out my mind,
I did not heed the fateful sign,
As the strangled stars were struggling,
Beyond gnarled, trembling branches to align.
In unforseen typhoons calamity struck,
Forcing my tendrils to come unstuck.
Such pain, such woe I did thence brook -
To no avail, as destiny offward snuck.
The root did wither, the stars did wane. All that's left is a frightful stain.
Now we await the falling rain, as we are already neck-deep in the mud;
Standing here, forlorn, might as well be made into wood - or even paper.
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.