Can't think of anything worse
than rhyming in verse,
for words, you know,
They come out in pure form,
when you least expect it,
that double x entendre
that's not deflected,
that shakes the norm,
not out of some lost library book.
You getting warm? I'd rather speak straight.
Look, I hear it on the street,
blue collar blues wailing out the beat.
You gotta eye that wild hombre on the corner
stringing, rapping his fate.
He was born to sing his own song,
as I sing mine.
Today's challenge from OctPoWriMo is to write a poem in verse.
Most true rap is too strong for me. From what I've heard, I guess I like the rhythm of "soft rap" and the glue of rhyme that holds a song together. Lots of energy and gritty story-telling in hip hop, a new art form that keeps right on changing. Here is a Youtube clip of a musician who took to the streets . . .
The musician is Joshua Bell. The experiment was set up by the Washington Post. Bell played Bach for about 45 minutes on a Stradivarius violin worth about $2 million. Few stopped to listen.
Jump over to Octpowrimo to read what others have written.