Terza Rambler

[jaydee]

Looking through old poems for something to put up last night made me think about what I was writing then. Which thoughts, I decided, might as well rhyme. This form seems quite suited to rambling on. To rambling on about rambling on, even.



Sometimes I marvel at the words once said
by me, or someone who I used to be.
"Man, what the hell?" I think, and shake my head.

Of course there are some parts I still agree
with, I would still put into verse today.
But it's the differences stand out to me.

That I was so naive causes dismay
and forces me to face the question, "How
was I so wrong, I could those thoughts display?"

What's worse, I know I'm not much better now.
Indeed, it's not just words from years gone by;
there are quite recent poems I disavow,

and with a question much the same: "Oh why
did I let thoughts like this pollute
my mind when they are something I deny?"

Perhaps it would be better I were mute
and not of these vicissitudes aware,
at least not going over each minute

word, line or phrase so that I can compare
what I thought then and I think now, or in
the future yet may think. A new despair

comes with the thought of that. I can't begin
to wonder how my writings now will seem
to me when I have changed again. Within

all of this cringing, can I find a theme?
Perhaps it is a blessing, not a curse
to know one's mind can change, that one extreme

is not all I will know. The more diverse
the better, that's how balance best is sought.
I'll celebrate the changes in my verse,

for life is change, or so I have been taught,
as is all else, so why not also thought.