One must make a distinction however: when dragged into prominence by half poets, the result is not poetry, nor till the autocrats among us can be “literalists of the imagination”—above insolence and triviality and can present for inspection, imaginary gardens with real toads in them, shall we have it.
Thursday, March 16, 2017
Fireblossom Friday: Incongruity
For illustration, here is my poem "Garden Wall":
They stood daddy up
against the garden wall
and shot him through the head for writing against the regime.
Our ginger cat
hid behind the tomato vines.
Its eyes were yellow. The sky was blue. The leaves speckled red on the green.
The peaceful sunlit setting does not line up with the brutal act that takes place within it. This incongruity jars the reader and heightens the effect.
What about the latter? For this, my poem "In The Year Of":
In the year of the pestilence,
in the time of the puppet government,
we fell in love.
We held hands, and gamboled
as others doubled over and died.
In the year of the pogrom,
in the hour of the public noose,
we were giddy,
and grateful for our milky corneas
our couplings, and our luck.
Although this is not actually a love poem--but, rather, a piece about willful blindness--it *seems* like a love poem, played out against a backdrop of revolution and death.
Both these examples are rather grim in their subject matter, but incongruity lies at the heart of humor, as well. It is the absurd, the thing we don't expect, that is often the very thing which makes us laugh. And so, your poem can be light, if you wish.
So, mix it up, explore incongruity. Then link! Please write a NEW poem for this prompt, and no haiku or such like.