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Premium Member Storetry

Storetry
 (A story in rhyme)

By Franklin Price
5/14/2016

Storetry,  a word I've coined
At least I think it's mine
The following's my first one
I hope you think it's fine

For years writers have written
Myriad poems that tell a tale
So many of them classics
From poets that we hail

Of war and travel, love and loss
Many subjects quite diverse
Many are novelistic
While others are quite terse

Many people of the world
Scandinavian, Latin, Greek
Have written their own Storetries
Take an interest, take a peek

There's something about poetry
That supersedes all prose
The rhyming, rhythm of the words
To take us where it goes

Weaving, painting, sculpturing
The phrases one by one
To make some sense and sound alike
Is interesting and fun

I'm ending now this Storetry
It is the first from me
I'm sure there's more to come along
You'll just have to wait to see

Rain

you know that smell
that smell that everyone loves
the smell after a storm
nature being reborn
the fresh breath you take
the last drop it gives

That is everyone's favorite part of a storm
they sit inside while it happens with hot coco and a enduring book
curled up in the softest blanket they could find
intertwined in this novelistic world
not me

i love the storm
as soon as the rain starts
my life switch turns on
barefoot running through puddles
that's the game i play
singing every song with the moment 
that's the drug i take
soaking wet 
no sign of regret
there is where my never land is

Black Shakespeare

Picture this a lil kid 8 years pen and pad first
let it be known I'm Black Shakespeare with a rap verse
it never hurts to strive harder, dive in stardom,
my thinking cap is starving, mental collapses often.
Awake my pencil out the couffin, sit and contimplate
skills to ovulate mixed with rage I'm spitting spittin bars of fate.
Inscriptin scars in my pages my novelistic ways
is hard to hate calm still involved with the rage.
As God as my witness He knows the struggle keeps me stronger,
the longer I'm involved breathing on the Earth I'm in somber.
Cough a song up, lead by the drummer hey dawg it's dark
in these tunnels,
what's becoming of me writting these poems,
I'm unlike the norm my style and form....Black Shakespeare


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.

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