A new type of haiku

It’s broken from the original form

But it still follows everything it needs to follow

To be considered some type of haiku

It’s called an acrostic.

That was the first verse

This verse will be even greater than the last

Adding by six to continue the pattern to this twisted version

A twisted version of the traditional

There’s no turning back

What does this even represent?

This has become nowhere near a haiku

It cannot represent life for this has pattern

But what does life represent at all?

I am tired of arranging.

Maybe it’s tradition

A small simple rule to follow

Made as a thing to be passed down from father to father.

Is tradition the thing I search for?

No, tradition can fade.

Maybe it’s aesthetics

Or maybe it’s just writing sound

That sounds nice through your ears but is nowhere to be heard.

This sounds nice in head right now

But nothing is being spoken.

Pattern, is that it?

Pattern! It’s a useless thing!

It’s a way to phrase phrases with rhythmic timing.

Even as I type I use

Pattern, but no more.

This is my work

I don’t need to follow an unspoken rule

I will add by seven or maybe tree or maybe six for each line

This doesn’t need any theme or pattern

My work is mine

I am unresting.

I am an artist of words.

I am a bender of language.

I create the exception.

I will break standards.

A concave I could write!

Lesser each time

Until but

One

Syllable stays

I could write a concave!

In a monotone voice I could write.

Same amount of syllables each time.

A vertical line straight down the sides.

In a monotone voice I could write.

I could rhyme just like this

With no point to miss!

Or I could could write free verse

And stop the song-like flow.

I can make long, wordy, tiresome lines with words like iridescent and heathen,

Or keep it short.

I could eve

n brea

k the line.

Who cares?

My work is mine.

For who is there to stop me?

The poem police?

Give me a break! I do as I please!

Nothing will stop me, as I write what I think!

And when I write what I think,

I write everything.