A superfluity of incongruity

O lucky modern poets, freed at last
from manacles of metre, chains of rhyme,
free to explore the natural rythms of speech
(which we hear everywhere and all the time)
invigorated by subtle cadences,
the lilt of intense feelings crafted to reach
more sensitive intelligences.
And as for that old-fashioned full-on rhyme -
who wants their dazzling landscaped flowers
trampled down by ugly clomping boots ?
(Though laymen might think near-rhyme more a crime.)
And no more boring repetition of verses
now that lines can be stopped
anywhere
                 for visual effect
and novelty of
                       s                  s
                         u             e
                            r        s
                              p   i
                                r
But all the usual prosaic tricks
can be exploited as before -
alliteration, rhetoric
and obscure figures of speech for sure.
This isn't merely tennis without nets;
why be constrained by all those cramping lines ?
Away with Tyranny ! You owe no debts
to generations of poets from earlier times.
What you've discovered and they failed to see
is that the nub of poetry is imagery.
But then prose writers do use imagery too
so you as poets really have to do
better meaning more illuminating yet
often degenerating to what is easier -
originality, appropriate or not.
For what is new may not be insightful
but only some unusual combination
of ideas or words in juxtaposition.
What gains the prizes and the muted fame
must meet the standard of your bizarre game.
Although superior to most pop lyrics
and clearly better than manic rapping,
it calls to mind those crazy quotes from Zen -
what is the sound of one hand clapping -
itself ?