Ars Poetica I.
Ars Poetica is a poem that explains the “art of poetry,” or a medidation on poetry using the form and techniques of a poem. Horace’s Ars Poeticais an early example, and the foundation for the tradition. While Horace writes of the importance of delighting andinstructing audiences, modernistars poeticapoets argue that poems should be written for their own sake, as art for the sake of art. Archibald MacLeish’s famous “ Ars Poetica” sums up the argument: “A poem should not mean / But be.” See also Alexander Pope’s “ An Essay on Criticism,” William Wordsworth’s Prelude,and Wallace Stevens’s “ Of Modern Poetry.”
Picking up a pen seems a peeling swerve past seas of thorns
Compare, write a ”the sixth sick seat seeks Sthyxth’s silks” fetches abuseful returns
Let alone have it on as so, through out weaving some epic
Lines filled – empathy so, to ”tamat” to something – a poor ethic
To balance the rhythm runs merits a special – supra calling
That kind that Alexandra Pope perhaps knew in musing
To do it, that down and down till the period crowns
Then the pseudonym be bellowed below besides three seated, dotted fans
The rest is left for right, to spot the errs – comes la critics call.
Most of them should lonely lack a curtain call
They could come kinkily within and without in their rubbish reddish robes
Feeling king-ful in the ken, ”we know it all bring their works”!
”These ones are wrong, change them and never complain”
Too tired ”take care kerchief and blow the errors off the nose”; such disdain
Packs of poohs in erudite gores for glory
Costly coxcombs, brood of vipers that cannot write one short story
Pieces by jagua fleeced with jugular joints
Judges that need cheerful chastise on their privy points.
They have forgotten the traditions so
Thanks to Pope for his criticisms o!
The tuberculosis thing really did a pain in the bone
He pinpointed the sayings of Aristotle that laid out the first stone:
Write and never feel bad about it
No one comes before the muse to lose it
Critically – gaunt the works for ages if time permits so
Garner yourselves to infer well like parks of positive hermits go
Come together not for condemnation and condescending we have in my very varsity yo
By the rubbishes in the bins, recall us goodly goods so.
Creativity is crying seeing critics killing using sickly savvy
Such shrewdness is deadly, past pens pine unhappy
The default lies fine in the lines lining in their fluffy havoc faces
Stitch your loose ends first makers of murderous cases
Souls lacking spirit is as good as the body in the shroud
In records now be bodies in dirt losing lots aloud…