Recently, I stumbled upon a poem written by a good friend, 
Marg
Marg and I have been communicating for some number of months and in my 50 years and 57 countries, she is undoubtedly one of the most indomitable human beings I've ever met. Marg has a genetic disorder called Ehlers Danlos Syndrome, a bloody nasty condition if there ever was one. Here's one of her posts describing some of the daily delights of the disease. If anyone has the right to be constantly bitching and complaining (a hallmark of present-day culture), it's her. And yet, in spite of it all, she rarely does. Sure, she gets down ... but she gets back up ... making the best of a bad situation.
In addition to possessing near-lunatic levels of stick-with-it-ness, she also possesses several literary skills that are rare, and therefore rarely witnessed.
I've been writing poetic verse for a long time, and in that time, I've learned a few tricks ... ways to manipulate the minds of your audience (how did you think "ART" worked?). I started sharing such deceits and duplicities with the Steemit poetry community several months ago. To no avail.
Poets are notoriously poor listeners ... we're yappers. To a man or woman, we're convinced the world will be obsessed with what we have to say (it isn't) and that we already say it to perfection. Having to earn an audience's attention is something of an after-thought. While Marg possesses plenty of yappiness genes, she also possesses a few for listening.
Marg took my advice, applied it and the results have been ... remarkable. She has gone from being a damsel of doggerel to the belle of the ballad. Her progress has been as fast as I've ever seen.
I've tutored all lot of aspiring poets and am often asked, "Can anyone be a great poet?" The answer is ... "No." Anyone can be taught about meter, rhythm and rhyme (although even that is a lot harder than you'd think ... many people cannot accurately count syllables and rhythm ... Oy). But those are the mechanics of language.
Great poetry uses the mechanics of language to force-multiply an idea, ideal or insight ... the most powerful of which is an insight. You cannot teach people how to have insights. Either you have them, or you don't. Marg has them. She possesses an uncanny way of reducing a complex issue to its essence, and from that, making a declarative statement that is so simple in its assertion that it becomes profound.
Besides be willing to listen and an ability to generate insights, Marg also possesses a facility for employing humor that is particularly potent. Humor is a lot like salt: A little bit dramatically increases the flavor of the dish, too much ruins it entirely. Understanding what is the "right amount" is entirely a matter of instinct and Marg has it.
Switching Gears
Given Marg's medical condition, she is no longer able to handle the physical demands of nursing, her profession. Instead she's exploring her many creative talents her on Steemit. She is fortunate to have two very supportive people in her corner: Her husband, 
Besides writing and poetry, she's also something of a painter and needle-worker (I don't know what it's called ... it involves needles and wool ... and no, it's not "knitting"). Personally, if I were her husband, I'd burn the paintbrushes and needles, leaving her only a pen.
"Damn you, Quill ... You're a Blood-Thirtsy Tyrant!"
My surname is "Savage" ... what did you expect?
Anyway, here's Marg's "Smile" poem entry for the aforementioned poetry contest. Go read it: It will become important in a moment.
Marg's Homework
As discussed, Marg's has many laudatory talents and traits.
One of them, however, is not "getting her homework done on time." Yes, I acknowledge, she's got some better-than-average excuses ... but I've also noticed a fair amount of gallivanting going on. Knitting scarves, for example. Shakespeare never knit scarves, did he? And, Marg lives in Australia ... a continent-sized beach. "Momma ... my hands are cold. I need a new pair of mittens." I'm not buying it.
Several months ago, Marg and I decided to embark upon an exercise: I provided a poem with every second stanza blanked out. Her assignment was to fill in the missing stanzas, replicating my style and use of meter, rhythm and rhyme scheme. Given that I "write tight," this is considerably more difficult than it sounds, which, perhaps, explains the scarves. The difficulty is that she is shackled to my story, of which she only knows half, and my manner of expression. It's like completing a jigsaw-puzzle when half the pieces are blank.
Almost-Announcing "Marg's Homework Poetry Contest"
One of the axiomatic truths I most frequently repeat to my daughter is that when you have something difficult to go through, it helps to have someone to go through it with you. Armies understand this: Soldiers are paired up with battle-buddies who are to remain inseparable in combat. Simply, misery loves company.
And you're the company.
In my next post (sometime tomorrow), I will officially announce the Contest and its details. You will receive the same assignment as Marg. In it, I will also explain the immoral manipulations and machinations I intend to employ (I'm in advertising) in an effort to coerce fat-walleted whales and dolphins into sponsoring the Contest.
Those Who Can't Do ... Teach
Here's how this whole thing got going (extracts from the comments section on Marg's "Smile" poem):
My Comment:
This is bloody excellent!
For too long she smiled by halves
Her joy was halved as well
She got her power back and swore
Never again to quell.
Lovely Ballad Meter, good rhythm and rhyme scheme ... force-multiplying a powerful insight. A combination of two off-setting emotions, humor and poignance ... like "sweet and sour" ... that creates "tension/release."
Damn ... this is damned fine craft.
Note to Curators ... UPVOTE this Post at 100%!!! This was more difficult to write than it appears ... which is the hallmark of good poetry. I see @sunravelme already did ... good curation.
Quill
Marg's Reply:
Oh Quil, You make me blush! Some genius just taught a word monkey to sing an advertising jingle and then self project their tiny insular perspective/existence into the formula.
Then said teacher quietly basks in the secondary gain of the students achievement. The humble satisfaction that only great teachers understand, the satisfaction of a student who listens, learns and adequately applies the lesson learned.
Inadvertently reminding and motivating the student back towards the current task. Set some time ago... quite some time ago! And lost in a sea of half written ballads and interesting words, somewhere on fire hazard kindling in the kitchen ... Marino... Counting sheep just isn't what it used to be.
My Reply:
No one else knows what you're talking about but I can assure them, you are a very clever gal. In fact, you're so clever that your cleverness inspired your teacher to himself write a poem ... also entitled, "Smile" ... thereby increasing your competition. :-) Steel sharpens steel.
Marg, I am furiously proud of this work. As I keep telling you ... write! This is your forte.
Quill
As you can see, my original intent upon reading Marg's poem, "Smile," was to enter the contest with my own entry of the same name ... and hence, the poem at the top of this post. And so, I quickly banged out a poem to beat the deadline. But I didn't enter it.
What if I'd won?
Would not the taste of such victory have been soured by the fact that it had handed Marg a defeat on the best poem she'd ever written ... a poem in which she'd employed every technique I'd taught her to use? For all my talk about "steel sharpening steel," I am reluctant to draw a sword against my own. Someday, but not yet.
Of course, this whole line of thinking presumes I even know what I'm talking about. The world is filled with blowhards claiming high-minded expertise while providing little evidence-of-the-assertion. Those who can't do ... teach.
And so, I decided to instead use my poem as the basis of an Exercise in Comparative Analysis, thereby subjecting it to the same scrutiny and peer review with which the entries to Marg's Homework Poetry Contest will be subjected. There is more than one way that "steel can sharpen steel." And, those who judge ... ought too be judged.
Your Assignment
And so, here's what I'm asking for this post: Read Marg's poem, and mine, and leave comments in the comment section of both posts. Both poems were written using the same writing-prompt, and hence involve the same subject-matter. Your mission is to Compare and Contrast the two poems. Critique and Compliment as you see fit, but no ass-kissing stuff.
This is about making writers write better, and that must inevitably include listening to the audience. But to be worthwhile, the audience must be honest.
Special Judging Invitation
As this whole thing spring-boarded off @jassennessaj's Contest, I would like to extend a Special Judging Invitation to him. Such invitation is, of course, also extended to 
In addition, I'd also like to invite 
Quill
