Jaycee Dee is over the top as usual, like a melody
Dressed in a sassy leaf dress, designed by Jaycee
Her shoes have flowers and are holly berries too
Every eye in the place is peering down at a shoe
She is the quintessential queen of look-at-me
that adorable extraverted Gemini, Jaycee Dee
She might as well have a sign attached to a shoe
That says I am happy and joyful, never a bit blue
She brings the party when she walks in the door
We all chase after her as if we are puppies galore
Her laugh is sparkling, her attitude is pure fun.
She graces us with confidence, we are easily won
You’re a writer? I am too. My brother is. My father is. We all write.
I am asked to critique, but I refuse, for I am not a critic or an influencer.
My muse Trixie yells things - kick them, run away, hit them in the head.
She is much more daring than I and cares not for social cues.
When I write something politically outrageous, I blame Trixie.
She loves the attention – twirling with happiness at the acclaim.
My show-off, extraverted personae; I am the one who slinks away.
Drawing cartoons about you, to appease my other selves.
I write ten to thirty poems a day; this may not sound like much.
But I had this as my goal three years ago, and I have met it.
I am constantly writing around my job, you cannot ask people though.
They do not know. They think I am typing important stuff for work.
I am throwing poems and stories onto clean crisp white pages.
I stop everything I am doing when humans come in with spying eyes.
I do not tell anyone I am a writer; okay, maybe two people know.
The rest of them would just say “I’m a writer too” so I keep mum.
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.