Acrostic poetry- no I’m not mad at anyone!


An acrostic poem is one where the first letter of every line spells a word, when read in a straight line vertically. The poem should demonstrate or define that word. My poem is a one word description of myself, called “Maverick”.

Majestic. Alone. I’ll go my own way,
Avoiding leaders and followers, what they may say.
Vested now in my solitude and sweet silence,
Envy and conflict, a rare occurrence.
Reaching beyond my own limits, no one judging why,
Incorrigible, a true radical, with authority I’ll vie.
Can you understand my desire to be completely free?
Know that this solitary journey, is the real me.

Contribute your own acrostic here, if ya like!

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10 thoughts on “Acrostic poetry- no I’m not mad at anyone!

  1. Good work, Diane! I have never done poetry in this form, but I use a lot of acrostics that are not poetic in my non-fiction writing on spiritual matters. My one book is based on this form and every section begins with one that I develop in the chapter that goes with it.

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  2. With the advent of the www, it was never necessary to ask the permission of the professional publishers and aging postmodern pedants to establish and grow a renaissance, to build both the historical context and the living content, but we just did it. Any technology which presents a man with an opportunity to serve society and make a humble living while following the American Dream is a great thing, and I humbly thank all the innovators and entrepreneurs who brought the www to life–I know those tireless grad students, engineers, and programmers–they form the backbone of all modern ventures, of the very internet itself. They know far more about poetry than most modern poets, far more about business than modern economists, far more about good, hard, honest work than lawyers and litigators, far more about intrinsic value than venture capitalists and investment bankers, who never really create what they own, but only ever harness the winged dreamers to their bank accounts. And so I dedicate this site to the humble, tireless philosopher–worker in all walks of life. Were ye not out there, we would not be here, and in these words, may ye find meaning’s peace.

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  3. Robert Louis Stevenson said that wine is “bottled poetry.” As someone who loves words and has a great appreciation for poetry, this resonates with me. Wine is a labor of love and passion and the drinking of it causes the person partaking to slow down and savor the moment. Poetry does this. Like wine, poetry can be an acquired taste. I fondly recall giggling at the Shel Silverstein poems I read as a child – I mean, what child wouldn’t appreciate a poem about piles of garbage, an old lady eating a whale, or where the sidewalk ends? One doesn’t make the leap from such a book to John Keats without taking many steps in between, and some of my richest memories from my college years involve the relationship I developed with Shakespeare, Keats, and Shelley.

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    1. Julian, I post Shel Silverstein poems, because they are witty, silly and fun. Many of them also have a good “moral to the story”, although I think Shel would rather be roasted over hot coals than admit it! Many people don’t realize it, but he was also an award winning playwright, and he played the bongos. Such talent is only seen once a century, and he is sorely missed.

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  4. Which brings us back to the question of lyrics and/or poetry in translation: Whose work are you hearing, the original writer’s or the translator’s? In prose, a more or less literal translation is possible and should be pretty straightforward. Verse – by which I mean rhyming poetry, as most lyrics still tend to be – is more problematic because words in different languages have this pesky habit of not rhyming with each other, not to mention the differences in grammatical sentence structure from one language to the next.

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