My muse tells me the best of poets use iambic meter.
The really good expressions I have noticed in these styles,
as sonnets, nonets, quatrains - all those so-called 'perfect' verse -
will be accepted by a judge and win a comp by miles.

When rhythm streams across the page and rhyme is never missing,
a writer in ta dum vibration, song-like essence captures.
If lyrics off the tongue all roll in strolling, lilting fashion,
a master of this form will have an audience in raptures.

I wish I were a tough guy
The kind you meet in books
Made of rock hard muscle
With rugged hard man looks
A Raymond Chandler hero
Exuding macho charm
A super spy or villain
With a beauty on each arm

I’d love to be the kind of guy
That others see and fear
The bane of every coppers life
I'd look at them and sneer
I might fall for a sucker punch
Get beaten up or more, but
I’d meet them face to face
And then, I’d even up the score

Death is unknown
Life is the mystery
On the path
Through my own history

I was born
As a positive spark
But alone the way
In came the negative dark

Lost in a world
Without a guiding light
My heart became hard
To withstand the fight

Mists of hate
Clouded my mind
I could not hear or see
Those that would be kind

The opaque screen
Which was my life
Kept my thoughts
In constant strife

So many times
So many have tried
And
Failed at it,
To unveil the veil upon my statue,
As I stand alive inside it.
That veil when my time comes,
To attain glory,
Guys and girls come out with stories gory

Why do you want to unveil the statue?
It’s not yet ready,
So they say,
Why unveil it in a half-baked way.
A living statue perhaps maybe
So they steal my recognition away,