New Fangled Poetry

I can’t write this modern stuff;
I just don’t see its goal.
I see word lists and that’s enough
to make me wonder if it’s whole.
A poem made of lines that short
and nothing there that’s rhyming
goes against all I was taught
about cadence and the timing.
I was bought up on ‘The Banjo’
and some bits of John O’Brien
where a poem’s all about the flow
and a tale leaves a bloke cryin.
So though I’ve tried it now and then;
this art I’d love to master
I just find it don’t suit my pen
so what I write is a disaster.
This isn’t meant to denigrate
those who give this art its meaning
it’s just that this style doesn’t sate
my own poetic leaning.
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About a foolhardy florilegium

Nullius addictus iurare in verba magistri, quo me cumque rapit tempestas, deferor hospes.
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