Prose poetry 

As a specific poetic form, prose poetry was originated in the 19th century in France. French prose was governed by laws so strict that by breaking them, it was possible to create prose that was seen to be intended as poetry. Poets such as Charles Baudelaire, Arthur Rimbaud, and Stephane Mallarmé were among the founders of the form.

It used to be said that prose poetry was impossible in English, because the English language was not so strictly governed by rules as the French was. In the twentieth century, when English prose has become more and more governed by the iron laws of Strunk and White, this may no longer be the case. Rapturous, rhythmical, and image-laden prose from previous centuries, such as is found in Jeremy Taylor or Thomas de Quincey, strikes 21st century readers as having something of a poetic quality. Much contemporary poetry is written in free verse, and the difference between much free verse and prose poetry may be more in the typography than in the content.

A famous example of prose poetry in English are the archy and mehitabel stories of Don Marquis, published in the New York Tribune[?] in the early 20th Century.

plain setting of gold." "But Orion. . . ." "If you love.html">love.html">love.html">love me, sweetheart, contradict me no further. In the future involve us in a serious misunderstanding, by compelling me to give in to And once more, as to this gem. You see.html">see.html">see we may both be wrong--I as much statement.html">statement contrary to mine.html">mine I shall appear before the judges as a liar. dignifies one of us humiliates or elevates the other. If you, who love the governor's house--make a statement opposed to mine they are certain still too young and innocent quite to understand all the duties of that yield to me cheerfully in this case you certainly do not love me as you should state before the court that you saw Paula's necklace at noon Psyche engraved on it." "And I am to say that before all those men?" asked Katharina doubtfully. "You must indeed, you kind little angel!" cried Orion tenderly. "And request so grudgingly, suspiciously, and ungraciously? Nay, nay. If want to see me reduced to implore Paula for mercy. . . ." "But what is it all about? How can it matter so much to any one whether severe a test. We have not a moment to lose." "Very well then; but I shall die of confusion and shame if I have to make love me," he urged. "But it is dreadful!" she exclaimed anxiously. "At least fasten my veil cannot agree with your.... What is it you called me just now? Say it him aside when he whispered in her ear: "Let us see if a kiss cannot be a few minutes." He led the way into the anteroom to the great hall, begged her to wait Susannah had entrusted her daughter to him only on condition that he .

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