Romanticism and Haikus

Make me want to vomit.
Why is it that whenever I try to find real, stark, honest poetry and prose,
I always stumble upon Romanticism and Haikus?

Give me blank verse
Give me ballads
Give me free verse
Give me epics

Give me stories about lust, about hate
About torture, lamentation, despair,
Love, pain, sex, skin
Singular moments in one's life
Poems that put you there, in the scene, in the action.

Do not write about the beauty of a simple flower,
A haiku about bees buzzing by,
Do not coddle me with the simplicity of a cloud

Clouds rumble, they scream out, they clash, they breathe,
They contort and twist and they anger,
They fire
They do not drift.

I do not know what grade school education does to the soul of Man, but I'm lucky I somehow escaped.
'Meet the Masters' destroyed my interest in art, any feeling into the heart and soul of the artist, any grasp of expression
Orchestra destroyed my confidence in myself, my love of music,
my ability to look at sound as an expression of what words cannot.
Literature classes killed my view of writing as a pure escape of the soul, to express freely, to put down my thoughts on paper with no worry about consequence.

If you cannot teach art, music and literature as it deserves to be taught, then simply claim it is all the Devil, and let the children find it themselves.

So do not give me your idle haikus, and thoughts upon a tree,
Give me what challenges me as a human being, what makes me learn, and grow, and feel.