Diction Practice   Leave a comment

I want an addiction to proper diction
No friction between my words as I pick them
Flowing slick as I quickly slide them
From inside and drop them for you to see
Like seashells, sitting on the seashore
For you to admire, I desire that satisfaction
Even if I only receive a fraction.

They need to sound consistent, unique,
The transition of constants and consonants
Needs to lack resistance no matter how much
The words smash and crash into each other
In a tidal wave of dissonance and discordance
These dissidents of English will be brought to confluence
By my mastery of clarity and the dictionary

But on the contrary, right now it is scary
That I only have a passing skill, and nary the time
To pass on asking myself to task myself
With attacking the assonance and rhythm
Of poetry, knowing that I am an amateur,
Unsure of myself and of my place
But I will face this challenge with pride

Because inside, I’ll confide that I hide
The heart of a lion, which I’ll start to show
With more sincerity, as this disparity I’ve displayed
Has left me dismayed, but I wont be dissuaded
In fact, I’m elated that this fear has abated
I created, with little conflict or object
This poem to finally addict me to proper diction.

-Shaman Romney 2016

 

Posted 07/19/2016 by Shaman in Poetry

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