Orange que te quiero verde, that's Poeticah
The Visual Poetry of Poeticah explores the boundaries between poetry, languages, and traditional with computer visual art.
This is a poem from my chapbook Axtlanadu.
Bards Cliché and Twiché have a quaint tête-à-tête.
Cliché says, Twiché, you're just a babe in the woods.
Twiché answers, Your poems show you're a babe in the words.
Cliché utters, Careful, you'll lose all your worldly goods.
Don't worry, but as a poet you've lost all your wordy gods.
You blew it today, but realized the show must go on.
I didn't blow it so you're a case of the slow must grope on.
You should learn to take the bitter with the sweet.
Your bitter meals say make the butter with the sweat.
Not really, life for me is just a bowl of cherries.
Wrong! For you, life is more like balls of chilies.
Be more careful, keep your eyes peeled.
Be forewarned, keep your lies sealed.
I heard about your loss, don't put all your eggs in one basket.
Knowing you, don't put all your eggs in one racket.
Why so critical? Guess you're a chip off the old block.
Better than you: a chop off the old blob.
You'd help me if you had a heart of gold.
I would if you didn't have a heart of gall.
You think you're the cream of the crop.
For once, don't be the crumb of the crowd.
I'm down to earth. You're always with your head in the clouds.
Twiché fires back, Why are you always in bed with the clods?
Cliché clinches his fists and says,
I shouldn't say clichés lest you
Gun me down with twisted clichés.
Or should I say twichés?
Twiché winks and whispers,