On Poetry

I walked into the room from the cold, wet and bedraggled, looking not entirely unlike roadkill. Penguin was lying on the couch, watching the Fugitive, I think. Outerwear (poorly chosen for the weather, might I add) was shed, bags were dropped, kisses were exchanged and the question was asked:

"How did the test go?"

An sheepish smile. "I drew a cupcake."

In sum, the less said about this test the better. In my defense, though, the cupcake was very cute, and was saying "I'm healthy and delicious! I bet you can't say that about Amperean loops!"

I also composed a number of haikus, which I will now share.

Physics. Can it be a
a love-hate relationship?
I don't feel the love.

Partial credit saves
my grade. Sadly there isn't
much to save. Thanks, TEAL.

Two physics courses.
Two ways to phail. The gods of
GIR are cruel.

Oh Eric. In chairs
your little legs don't reach floors.
Stunted by physics?

and finally...

Were I a hooker,
I would only need physics
for sex and stuff.... yeah....

These haikus brought me to an interesting discussion with Penguin about my favorite verse forms. Actually, the conversation was more along the lines of whether I loved him (a definite), loved haikus more than him (a toss-up), limericks more than him (negative, except for that one about the man from Nantucket). Sestinas and triolets, it was established, were worthy of a higher love than he could elicit. I do like highly structured verse, but largely as an intellectual exercise - rarely does it elicit in me the same depth of feeling that well planned blank or free verse can; the forms are simply too emotionally restrictive. A challenge, perhaps?

Thoughts?